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It Is You Who Smothers Under Your Cloaked Surface

The time my time is and lived,
Is still your tomorrow to come.
My patience taken for granted,
For what you mistake...
As an indulgence with your hesitation,
As you waste it in contemplation...
Is a position you should not take.
Or pretend I can not see through...
An obvious masquerading behind a mask.

Fake are plastic faces displayed everyday.
And yet I find it increasingly difficult,
To anticipate an opening of your eyes.
I live in the 'here' and beyond your 'after'.
And you exist in a 'yesterday' relapsed and trapped.
One in which you try to disguise as denied.
How can I show or tell you what is defied,
You believe from me is kept hidden...
Is your lie lived but to me comes as no surprise.

How can I reveal to you,
What has not yet been revealed?
When you believe that I am the one,
Who secretly conceals inside what I feel.
And it is you who smothers under your cloaked surface.
If this is done on purpose...
Why?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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