The Cave

The Cave

They,
Consecrated strangers
They,
Guests, yet closest kin....
They,
Sharp juxtaposition's,
Whose eyes I'm mirrored in.
Their gold tongues, dripping honey
Words masking hurt, regrets
Whilst ghosts of buried secrets
Loom dark, and hardly kept
I ached.
I Craved.
I longed for their approval
Rare as the winter sun
Performed, a dancing monkey
Afraid I'd be out-done.
They made me jealous, bitter
I loathed who I became
I stepped from the arena
And didn't dance again.
Straight backed, my smile was blazing
I doused their kind "concern"
They never saw the craters
Their expectations burned.
With insight as my weapon
I thought i grasped their games
And read clear their resentments,
Felt free, above their chains
I stagger backwards, reeling
My theories burst undone
Seems that I knew nothing
It seems that I was wrong
I scan their eyes, insipid,
I lived in Plato's cave..
Deceived by shadow puppets
And buried, bourgeois shame