Go Along
What is in me?
under my rage
beneath my age
before my mind
who chooses “kind”
below my skin
deeper than heart
beyond the wind
before the start
It’s hard to see
if I don’t want
and if I do,
then it’s a task
that’s tiring
for all the masks
are heavy now
that I know their stacked
high and deep
upon my back
But without the masks,
then there’s pain,
there’s human life and loss
as true as rain
and as the drops
fall from the sky
so our lives
will pass us by
and before we know
they will be gone
the only question left
will we go along?
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