You look into my haunted eyes
Which represent my failed disguise,
And, though you try to see inside,
I can’t let go my childish pride.
You sit and hold me for a while
As, desperately, I feign a smile.
But I’m a man! I don’t need you!
Even though I know that’s so untrue.
And so, each day I will resist
The help I need as I persist
To fabricate my mask anew –
The one I know that you see through.
At last I can’t hold back the tide,
As down my face the torrents slide.
And now I have to make a choice:
Succumb or give my fears a voice.
In seeking help, I gained relief
And learned there’s life beyond my grief.
But though the rain will sometimes fall,
It’s ceased to be a prison wall.
Stephen Tomkins
Perth
29 October 2015