Do we understand, the things we hold inside,
Or do we seem to run away, with the hiding then denied,
A false facade protects us, the person hidden well,
Pretending to be in heaven, though each day’s a living hell.
Hiding somehow becomes easy, an often rehearsed role,
As in the night our skeletons dance, and they dance atop our souls,
The face that people look upon, is what they’re allowed to see,
Just a wrapping on the person, who wishes they were free.
Are our skeletons products of pain, or something created by the mind,
After all the heart can’t think, and never could through time,
Trust could be the issue, or maybe it’s our fear,
And when the voice of reason speaks, it seems none of us can hear.
Change is something easy to say, but so much harder to do,
And to make a skeleton disappear, the heart’s voice must come through,
Our skeletons make a thing so easy, become a difficult task,
Using all the things we fear, to help cement the mask.
The heart holds all our answers, but they’re locked up by the mind,
And as we search for the key, it’s ourselves we cannot find,
If hopes and dreams sustain us, by them are we kept alive,
Or do we sit and patiently wait, with the hope love will arrive.
In the whole scheme of things, though we live behind a mask,
Believing in love is not so hard, with that love an easier task,
If it emanates from the soul, and each day still lives and breathes,
It will always live within the heart, though the mind tries to deceive.
Though skeletons might be living scars, they’re terrified of light,
And if love is living in the heart, it lights the darkest night,
Still I hold things found with you, as what I need to survive,
As the skeletons flee the light, each day love’s still alive.