Facade

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When we were kids
we imagined ourselves super heroes,
running around backyards with capes
on, saving the world.

As adults, we watch movies and read books
imagining our lives as the main character.
We see a beautiful man or women
walking down the street,
and want to look like them.

We adore the famous,
not because of who they are,
but because of who we are.
This isn’t new.

We want to be anyone
and everyone besides ourselves.
We put makeup on our faces
and nice clothes on our bodies
to add flavor to who we are.
We spend our whole lives masking
our true selves in hopes of appearing
a certain way to the world.
This is life. The older we get
the more this is so.

Down the road.
As the intentions for our lives
are never attained, and
middle-aged boredom begins
rotting our muddled minds,
we’re usually left with
an empty existence. Yielding
to it all.

The only hope left.

The litany of everyday finally
stifles that fiery flame.
And the blood, that was once
a raging river, dries up.
The odyssey is now over.

As anxious days
dissolve into decades,
time dims the glow
of our spirit. We are left
alone. Just here.
Asking where it all went.
And as it gets harder for
us to get around and the wrinkles
become deeper, we’re left rummaging
through the artifacts of a life lost.

Sadly, in the end,
we come to realize,
that the little freedom
we had in life
we used to imitate others,
squandering time
on trifling matters
and giving in to everything
that society wanted.
We never lived on
our own terms. We never did
what we said we were going to do.
And we leave the true
hunger within, emaciating.

Who am I?

That regrettable question which
lingers in the midnight hour.
Unanswered. Or, grievously
answered.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

I will not ask that question
as the sun is setting,
neither will you.

I decided this today.

You and I will do things
that will make the world
shake its head.

We will laugh in the face
of tediousness and live our
lives so maniacal that the
gods will yearn for our presence.
In death.

The advent will be beautiful.

You and I know, that
in the end,
we are who we are,
unforgivably so.

And we will say yes to it all.

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