maskparade

“We sing, but oh the clay is vile/Beneath our feet, and long the mile;/But let
the world dream otherwise,/We wear the mask!” —Paul Laurence Dunbar

this masquerade, a mask parade
burns deep beneath the skin
where generations of lost nations
hide the truth within.
confederates who underrate
the victims of hate crimes
fake monuments make sentiments
that mock the halls of time.
berlinear falls of wicked walls
collapse the status quo
and to the pride on which it rides
deal skin-scorn one death blow.
corona-v no revelry
can make behind its masks
nor can rough truths forget tough roots
when shame in falsehood basks.
to roam at large in camouflage
does not the wounded heal
while, underneath, the stench of death
we cunningly conceal.
ingenuine the silly grin
we wear as self-defense;
spiteful façade, this mask parade,
while life hangs in suspense.

© Copyright 2020 July 04
by Clyve A. Bowen♫