Masked Masquerade

Trapped in the soles of your black Converses,
Buried under the striped blue collared shirt
And dark denim jeans
You conceal it all.

The invisible jagged scars,
Created by the shattered glass shards of your life,
One for the father you will never know,
Another for the mother, who you will never be able to satisfy.

An empty smile plastered on your face,
You hide the worries,
As your life tumbles down like the Berlin Wall,
You become inclined to paint a façade for the world.

Veiled in your mindless movements,
And empty eyes,
A piece of the world is
Breaking,
Just like you.

Masked masquerade,
I use to wonder,
But I should have known,
That you are
Completely confidential,
A secret,
Never meant to be slipped.
Comrade

Leaves trot from the refreshing
Spearmint cool breeze.

Crinkles of the Oregonian newspaper,
Clicks and clanks circle robotic librarians.

Giggles glaze over silence,
As the chocolate haired little girl bounces along the sidewalk.

Resentment sears out and accusations of neglect
Are thrown like overdue books at a librarian.

Library, oh library,
I have not forgotten thee.

For the life outside your walls are no different from you,
The untouched watered grass becomes green with envy.

The grass too longs to snigger with life
Like your Harry Potter books sitting idly on your shelves.

Oh library, like you – the grass has no other choice,
But to embrace emptiness.
Forever Silenced

Always waiting,
It isn’t the beating of the heart.

It is what keeps us up at night,
The ticking in our ears.

But then it retreats,
Inviting madness to reside.

Slowly sliding across our skin,
Weightlessly brushing against a face.

Raging speculation borders paranoia
With an unseen force.

It is subtle,
Pleading silently, desperately

For one last second of indulging concealment,
Whispers escape lips.

But a sinful heart,
Is left unheard.
…

Vivian Ngo