How brave, in reality, is a ‘brave face’?
A facade shared, it would seem,
by the majority of the human race.
Beneath the flaking paint of a painted mask
lies a truth too long and painful to explain
no matter how oft you care to ask.
How long before the cracks become too wide
to conceal with powders and creams
and the crimson smile starts to slide.
How long before there is but an empty shell
containing the dust of all that you were
and all you could never tell.
The dust seeps through cracks that no longer bind,
forming flowing rivers of a life long past,
to be carried away on a wild winter wind.
How brave, in reality, is a ‘brave face’
and how long can your trembling fingers
hold the mask in place?
(Written during my 3rd hospital admission for pneumonia.)
Written by Darren Scanlon, 2nd June 2015.
©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.