A cloud in my coffee . . .

You think you are so wonderful, so marvellous,
Everyone must love you, want to touch the hem
Of you oh so long black leather coat, or kiss the ground
That your highly polished tooled leather boots
Walk across.
You look down on mere mortals, smile an alligator smile
And pass on, content that there is nothing to interest you.
You accept the plaudits, the praise, the sycophantic lies
That you believe to be true.
The jewel in your ear glints in the spotlight,
Your medallion is lying half hidden by your
Immaculate shirt, so artfully open just the right amount,
And when you are on show, your smile is warm and
Welcoming, and so shallow not even a newborn infant
Could drown in it.
You think you are the best, the top of the tree,
A chart buster, desired and loved by all.
But you are just another human, frail, damaged
And hiding in a shell of false glamour.
The rings on your hand are hiding the bruises
Your fingernails made when you dug them in
So deeply as you fought down the waves of panic
And fear.
Your sleeves are long so that the marks on your arms
Do not show. You never smile with your eyes,
If you let your eyes into the game then
All they would do is shed tears.
Your mask is cracked, your armour is rusting,
One day no-one will care, and you will
Finally have to accept being real.

© 2ndwitch, 07/03/15