Poems Snarking Me Out of Nowhere

So, I was writing the beginnings of a poem on the way back from class today. By writing, I mean I was writing stuff down with a book held up in front of me for paper support WHILE I walked. I had to get the idea down or risk losing it altogether.

So, I go to dinner with the idea written down on a piece of paper. I'm hoping that while I'm eating I can clean it up, stare at it, and jot something down.

But instead of actually FINISHING the one I was working on, a second poem comes up behind me and makes me flip my paper over in a frenzy. Food forgotten, ignoring my aching fingers, I write like hell for five minutes. It literally makes me out of breath with the swiftness of how it comes down.

Getting back to the dorm room, that poem is the one that gets typed up and futzed with, instead of the first one (which still isn't finished).

So here it is, the poem that was meant to be 79 in the book but elbowed its way into spot number 78. It's terribly dark. I was kind of in this mood today but sometimes I surprise even myself with how angry I am.

Uncovering
You've always been
adept with the masks.

Cleverly concealing those parts
of you deemed unacceptable
by the censors

You have kept your silence
and hidden behind the wall
while others were stoned

in your defense
you were merely protecting yourself

In theirs
you were a bloody coward

But the day of reckoning is here
lines are drawn; sides are called.

Will you stand against the might
of a thousand armies

and watch more of your compatriots fall?
Curse you
and all of your affectations

Now break your mask
take what’s coming to you
stand at the edge of the battle

and face the enemy
yourself.

Like it? Hate it? Let me know!

Ta,
Bec