You haven’t changed. I have. I see you differently. Eyes that were bright seem faded almost dull. A smile that bears false. A desperate interpretation of pretty words in spun gold empty of meaning with a desire for some semblance of truth. A fool seeking solace in shadows now believes in monsters under the bed stripped of an innocence this past forever altered.
This story has been told a thousand times o’er those eager to listen believing in ever after a fondness for fairytale. He stands mightily emboldened in voice playing to the crowd. We are basking sitting on the cusp the edge of his crowd wanting so badly to be let in. Singled out. Chosen. Inside, the halo is dampened, seeing beyond the pulpit and the smile and charm. Peeling back layers revealing substance. Feeder of the ego we must applaud everything soother of the fraying threads else he comes apart and light shows clearly his picture.
A man is his truth. Forgive his words should they be clumsy for they are real and genuine. Thoughtful and unpretentious a tender show of kindness a mercy fueled within. It glows not from external glory or praise but from his inner light. Bespeaking a soul worthy. In time all is unveiled showing our weakness and our strength. One cannot hide all eternity.
Seek what lay behind the façade, the pretender, the master of the mask. A failure to observe lets us be dazzled by neon and glitter. Choose depth. Character of the man who is quiet who shouts not his accolades atop the highest rooftop. For he is man.