Waiting For What?

The blistering pockets
Of a mad man’s disguise 
Will surely save him
From prying eyes
Silently standing
In the mouth of the sea
Waiting for something
That he cannot yet be
Confused and delusional
Standing alone
Toiling with the voices
That are not his own
Writing the words
They tell him to say
Meanings to life
Lessons not to stray
His truths are known
By the way he writes
The man’s reality hides
From the light
Lost in his thoughts
Maybe no thoughts at all
Waiting for the glass to break
And the curtain to fall


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