Brave Face (Poetry)

It’s an effort to cover the canvas —
blending flaw and crack
blotting out the sleepless circles —
those shadows purple-black —
brave colours part-conceal them —
scars blurred ’til they lie faint
wounds sealed beneath a made-up skin
by layers of fresh paint.

A pretentious pseudo art form —
this forgery of a face —
convincing in its shallow way —
a trick to hide all trace
of damage that has wrecked a heart
reflected in sad eyes
where nothing masks the private pain
there is no sure disguise.

I keep my brave face on a shelf
for days I’m strong enough
to wear it publicly so friends
assume that I am tough
’though cracks run deep they’re covered well —
I’m practised at the art
but how things look and how they are
these days are worlds apart.