Behind The Glass

Behind The Glass

My tears are dry and nobody can see the cry

I’m Wednesday’s Child lost to even God’s eye

There’s only silence even when I call

It’s always square peg in a round hole

I don’t feel the lashes from life

My scars are toughened but destruction is rife

I was meant to be to write this poetry

Never possible if I was sane normally

Laughter comes easy because I don’t view cynically

Irony and the darkness of humor cajole me happily

I’m not easily embraced and have no idea when to

I want, I can’t and then emotions of regret make me blue

I have no vices for I was instilled as if a Jesuit

By whom you may ask and perhaps the best answer is my maker

For I find resistance easy but long for temptation

My mind brake is the fault line that enforces heartache