Long Sadmystery Poems

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