he could not make her out

at close quarters but afar

smiling yes but acting no

near, yet distant as a star

like rain falling half-way

a tide trapped out at sea

an infant sapling stunted

a blossom without a bee

brows furled with doubt

mouth unstable not still

eye contact fraying, lost

signals iced by inner chill

curious blend, rare alloy

what el...

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Do we wear a mask or a facade?

Do we disguise who we really are?

Do we laugh or joke or wear a smile?

Though inside we suffer all that while?

Should we say that we are always fine?

Or tell what is really on our mind?

Are we afraid of being judged?

Or that we shall be misunderstood?

Should we keep our troubles to ourselves?

And have no one around to offer help?

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