Born with a pure soul,
As the proverbial driven snow
Life scars us, erodes and corrodes
Our spirit, forcing us to hide
Our face behind a mask
And grow a shell around our heart.
Thus armoured, we sally forth
Among the worldly-wise,
Pretending to fit,
And no one expects or suspects
That what they see is not reality.
©Denise G Allen, 10 January 2014 18:29