As behind the darkness of the night do criminals hide,
Do we behind the veil of our fabricated smiles
From neighbors, associates and akin alike.
Like wild animals do we
Pounce and wrestle and fight,
And appear toughed up outside,
Yet we know in the hours we spend alone
How ragged our garment is on the inside.
Stuck like gum to our soul is flesh foreign
And it keeps the growth of our heart stunted
And it keeps the land of love barren
Seeping out of myself am I
And myself do I so warn:
“The shame is not in being
But in staying forlorn.”