Waiting For What

The blistering pockets Of a mad man’s disguise Will surely save him From prying eyes Silently standing In the mouth of the sea Waiting for something That he cannot yet be Confused and delusional Standing alone Toiling with the voices That are not his own Writing the words They tell him to say Meaning of life Lessons not to stray His truths are known By the way he writes The man’s reality Hides from the light Lost in his thoughts Maybe no thoughts at all Waiting for the glass to break And the curtain to fall R.K.H