"The Gaudy Guise Of External Fortitude"
The Gaudy Guise Of External Fortitude
All I do is lie...
when you look into my eyes...
you can’t see me cry...
because it’s from behind this guise.
So I don a disguise...
of whatever you surmise.
You would be unpleasantly surprised...
if you were to realize...
the number of the times...
each day...my innards die.
So I feign to be alive...
my forces are allied...
my courses never denied...
my well being...implied.
I laugh and I chide...
with pleasantry of a piper pied...
fire a wink and a nod to the passer by...
while facing...firing squad executing me inside...
But through onlookers’ eyes...
Still I rise...
Still I rise...
Still I wait...
till this next one’s over.
As global weight rests on shoulders...
I’m Charles Atlas...
just a poser.
I’m a juxtaposed blur...
internally a reckless soldier.
front line battle...just the culture.
I don’t see blue skies...
just the vultures.
A tepid smolder...
or...a hardy boil...
each one brings my exit closer.
At best...I can’t accept the path of an over dose-r...
I never take the easy ride...
always the roller coaster.
Yet I can’t drop the act.
I’m stuck in character...
until this show is over...
but every now and then...
even the greatest fortresses...
.
.
.
.
come to know exposure.
© 2010 Malik Peterson. All Rights Reserved
All I do is lie...
when you look into my eyes...
you can’t see me cry...
because it’s from behind this guise.
So I don a disguise...
of whatever you surmise.
You would be unpleasantly surprised...
if you were to realize...
the number of the times...
each day...my innards die.
So I feign to be alive...
my forces are allied...
my courses never denied...
my well being...implied.
I laugh and I chide...
with pleasantry of a piper pied...
fire a wink and a nod to the passer by...
while facing...firing squad executing me inside...
But through onlookers’ eyes...
Still I rise...
Still I rise...
Still I wait...
till this next one’s over.
As global weight rests on shoulders...
I’m Charles Atlas...
just a poser.
I’m a juxtaposed blur...
internally a reckless soldier.
front line battle...just the culture.
I don’t see blue skies...
just the vultures.
A tepid smolder...
or...a hardy boil...
each one brings my exit closer.
At best...I can’t accept the path of an over dose-r...
I never take the easy ride...
always the roller coaster.
Yet I can’t drop the act.
I’m stuck in character...
until this show is over...
but every now and then...
even the greatest fortresses...
.
.
.
.
come to know exposure.
© 2010 Malik Peterson. All Rights Reserved
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