Never once was I certain
Of the time I could see
Behind the curtain
While everyone looked ahead
At what they were shown
Never once questioning
Its threatening tone
Oblivious to its terrors;
It repeats,
"Never restate what you've seen,
Don't ever think about peeking
You will never know."
I await in the corridor
To see if I can catch a glimpse
Of what stays behind the sheets.
Is it fear I feel?
Or pure anticipation?
I pull back the drape
To discover that which does not want to be seen
Who are you?
What could you be?
That's where my memory goes blank
And at the same time
I begin to shake.
They strapped me in this room.
I've been here for years.
I need to remember
But my memory's been seared.
The only advice I can muster
Is never once look
Behind the curtain
Unless you can be totally certain.
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