Facade


Idolize the man
Who through follies falters, fades.
He daily puts on masks
In his perilous parade
But when the day is ended
And his dear disguise departs
Yet awaits another cloak:
A cavalcade of counterparts!

One can start to wonder
If he’s real or recompense,
For those whose expectations
Hold his penitent pretense.
Where all is fine and dandy
In his banal balance act
As long as he conforms
To this self-afflicted act.

The saddest fact, my friends
Is this wasn’t always thus;
He used to find enjoyment
In the bustle and the fuss.
But original is trying,
Worse as meager and mundane
Better rich and unrepentant,
Miserable in fortune famed!