harder

it would be a hard task
ripping off that mask
unsure if she’s ready to share
certain that no one would care

new lines in her face point down,
down
grief makes her tired
it makes her frown

there’s no one
to apportion blame to
she’d ask for help
but she’s ashamed to

is she mad? she wonders,
are strangers really staring?
such a burden this is,
a load she’s tired of bearing

how long in the ground
before a body grows cold?
sorrow seductively questions
the point of growing old

lines deepen around her eyes,
eyes
that saw a bright future,
now dimmed by daily cries

copyright © 2019 KPM

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