This Mystery About Me...

Whoever tries to interfere with this mystery about me: is in for a stunning surprise, everything deeply concealed can't possibly be revealed! Others will sell their soul to green, to be in the glamorous spotlight; and the irony, beside the folly, never demands an apology and be apparent in every delusional appeal, which feeds on justification rather than sympathy: feeling so wretched and depleted and ashamed of being seen... And will this mystery about me die and not be denounced with demure... without being in a deluge of dire regret, devising another plan and detour; desiring of breaking free without deviating from the main road: to discern the importance of dignity, and disconnect hope with dilemma and hate... Dispirited, recurring to unpleasing choices and dispersing the inward beauty without dismal; disembodying my aspect of gracefulness, to hide this mystery about me by building a wall to ignore their call... and will my dishonesty be rejected scornfully, or will they understand my silence by showing fondness and love? Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci