What Lies Beneath
Who am I really?
Lover , sinner , saint?
The outward faces that we show,
are only coats of paint.
Everyone goes about the expected way,
and plays their little games,
never realizing , that they all spread the pain.
The ones we thought that loved us best,
tell the most vicious lies.
And all the time they hide behind
a mask of perfect smiles.
A world full of glossies , and whitened bright veneers
passing by those they deem less worthy,
and causing them to fear.
Left with wondering what we did,
to make them feel such disdain?
People we once trusted,
now just turn the other way.
False friends , and broken vessels,
is all there is to say.
Whited sepulchers on the outside,
inside death and decay.
Copyright © Jeanette Woods | Year Posted 2016
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