Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
A M Ryder Nov 27
If only they asked us who we were
Instead of what we hoped to be
Perhaps the tides of life would stir
And drown the myth of destiny

We walked where others led
Convinced the end was worth the pain
But found the paths we hoped to tread
Were mirrored trails that looped in vain

Who we are was never asked
And who we are, we'll never know
A shadow cast, a question masked
By what they'd hope we'd choose to show

Who decides what form we take?
What mold could hold the restless mind?
The world, it seems, must bend or break
Yet asks the broken to be kind

On we marched, a scripted role
Each line rehearsed, each step aligned
But with every act, we dug a hole
And buried parts we'll never find

Deep beneath the guise
When all ambition fades away
We'll find no answers, just the lies
We told ourselves a long the way

The void, at last, will fill the space
Where questions hung and answers fled
It cares not of our time, or our place
It gazes back and calls us dead

So in the end, when the silence grows
And all masks are cast away
The self we left unloved, will show
And greet us as if we never strayed
Jeremy Betts Oct 12
You sit on a throne of lies
Watching me struggle with your ladder of deception
Eyes don't always look for the disguise
Your particular ugly's deep under the skin
I fell for your generic guise
Can't help but fall in lust over and over again
Another broken heart is my prize
This is not love,
This is a forbidden sin
The apple I should have never bitten

©2024
KHY Feb 2021
the waterfall pours from my eyes
pedals fall underneath the guise
stunting growth, lethargic dope
cogs and knots, perched atop  
Frozen locks, offset and lost
denial of fact, unravelling fiction
dine in solitude, reset and listen
neth jones Nov 2019
a convulsive shaking of the head

a tremble ;
it's no trouble
and i've slipped this disarray

shrugged off the character ;
an avatar i've maintained
for a dedicated period

a return to The Cunning

quake the sleeper agent
and unburden the actor

a return to Cunning

the weight is clipped
and the pouch rises to the surface
geesing the code

the dog program :
click the assignment
into a bleedable port

quake the sleeper
and unburden the act

charge up joy for the task ahead
start cleaning the toys of the trade  

re load the literature
retrain your physical form ;
blessed with muscular memory
and a breathing plan

the domestic ailments of the house
are striped and packed into the guest bedroom
the body hair is shaved to minimum
the workplace is given a sick call
then all the tech is despoiled
and the signal singed out

no more Mr. civilian
snuffed

the soldier
with unmarred purpose
is gratefully reattached to physical function
and mental manner

the soldier makes channels of the streets
tags favoured places
****** in relished corners
puts out an advertisement
a secretion
seeking to rejoin his staff
of instigation
Dylan McFadden Jan 2019
We’ve been slowly sinking
Into our own thrones –
Permitting an unwitting
“Thinking” alone.

At evil, we’re winking
Without any Eyes –
Unshrinking, no blinking,  
We see not the guise.

.
Yuki Jan 2019
To the lucky ones
in whose hands
a ladybug has landed
today
I wish to not
search for a sign
or better a guise
to be great.
Poetic T Dec 2018
Only a weak man would intrude
                    on virtues of another.
For a strong man knows that within him
                 is the virtues of a woman's birth.  

And with out them, he would be nothing.
            Those that intrude on the innocence,  
         have a weakness not of man
but of value and are neither of morality or humanity.

But the sinking ventures of humanities folly.
                For all of creations bindings are
                                but a creation of before.

And even those that are  pure some are always
                              damaged to the point of sorrow.
Never guise all under one brush,  
   because each is a different stroke.

And some are just not meant to be allowed
                                                   to paint a canvass.
          let alone a memory upon another's ever
                                                changing innocence.
The sky's disguised
as a ******* a butterfly
writing rainbows
in everyone's eyes
Kaitlin Evers Feb 2018
I carry this mask to hide behind
And cache away my flaws
But know me, know me
Is my cry

I make myself this camouflage
Though please do not be fooled
See past my guise
See me, see me
Is my cry

Peirce through my shield into my heart
There you'll see I'm torn apart
I play like asphalt
But there's music in my heart
Next page