LiAr

sittin' there
with the wind in your hair,
cup of joe in hand,
and a smile
that's stuck on with a glue stick...

talkin' 'bout how
good you feel and trying
desperately to look happy
while sippin' your latte
and holdin' back what's real...

they say home is where
the heart is
but home is dark, lonely
and bare and you try
not to stay there except when
you're frolicking
through dreamland...

and the alarm sounds and you
re-enter consciousness
and you just wanna cry
but you pry yourself out of
bed anyway
'cause you gotta go
make some cash to maintain
the masquerade...

so...
you paste on your
plastic grin
and head off to face
the world and start the
charade all over again...

photo and poem (c) 2010 by DKF