corvus_pdx

Under the covers.

Passing strangers see my face,
see my clothes,
my hair,
my race.

Somehow because outside they see,
they think they know inside of me.

My heart it burns without a flame,
each passing man without a name.
to touch,
to hold,
to feel inside.
Those feelings that they can't describe.

To give them hope,
the truth,
a heart.
Those feelings that I can't impart.

Those people that they idly see,
are just the same as you and me.

They all have hearts that burn like flame.
passions, fears, they cannot name.

Outside a mask abides.
We trace,
their face,
their clothes,
their hair,
their race.

Their heart exists in none of these.
it's something deep we cannot see.

We do not take the time to look,
the rule abides just like a book.
do not judge what first you see,
You must look inside of me.