Poetry Corny, er, Corner

Three weeks? Well, the intent was to be more prolific than this, but at this point, it's the best I can do. It's a shame, too, because I've been inundated with techie work stuff, and I'm feeling the need even more to explore my more esoteric side. But, it's just not meant to be at the moment. Once I do, I'll post thoughts & feelings here.

In the meantime, I gift you, my audience (all one of you following, whee!) with this gem I unearthed while bringing order to the mounds of paperwork I call my desk. It's a poem I wrote back in 1990. I was in college, and just coming out and coming to terms with all that meant. It was a very bleak time. I was in a dark and scary place mentally and wanted to express it. But, of course, being me, I couldn't just write free verse or something simple. Oh, heavens no! I was all educated and stuff. So nothing less than a full-blown sonnet would do. Because even when trying to express pure emotion, I need some framework and structure to build upon. So, here 'tis. Enjoy.

Deception

 I slip through life, obscured by subtle lies
Which I have woven 'round me as a shield.
The truth of me no other man espies;
My thoughts and motives e'er have been concealed.

No other soul has breached the lofty walls
Which seal emotion in me as a tomb.
Many are those whom my façade enthralls;
I use them--they are threads upon my loom.

No conscience sways me in the cruel game
In which, as pawns, I move all other men.
Pity moves me not; I feel no shame.
Each step I take makes me deceive again.

Yet all throughout this sport of cunning stealth
I always feel the victim is myself.