What I secretly do
but not hidden
      
from myself, the truth
that I do not want to know
      
yet sometimes see
in the questioning eyes
      
of others, surprised
or hurt, on the border
      
of judgment on me
is the truth in the eyes
      
of my conscience that examines me
I sweat, it's a purgatory
      
and as long as it lasts, it is
hell: I am not
      
just myself
but one of the others

That's the drama