Is it just me
or every waking spirit,
coats itself
with a shield of glee.
Masking the accepted
social smile,
and revealing the dread
in the depths of night.
This is not often
though spontaneous;
observations, jesters,
noticed by me.
Juggling in others
the mirrors of me,
or mirroring myself
on others plea.
Is that for real
that is apparent to all..
or the one confronted,
just by me.
Do people belong
to where they are?
Or where their hearts,
might as well be?
Is it in us
that the pair of the claws
of the closet
resides?
Or shall I
ask myself,
is it walking barefoot,
strolling somewhere outside?
Nonetheless,
wherever it be;
call it inside
or outside of me,
There is a cold
breeze of air,
surrounding the enchanted
just the thought of thee.
Some confront them
others choose to ignore,
letting it behave as a passing thought
or a shadowy history.
But with me in it,
the scenario changes;
as I love to shake hands
with the doppelganger me.
