She lurched through life
masked as some kind of bandit
hoping to steal affection,
waiting impatiently
for the mardi gras of life
to throw beads her way.
She stumbled on embankments
peripheral vision hampered,
mask drawn too close to her soul.
Glancing downward,
sun blinding, glare too harsh,
she saw the rat staring from gutter’s grate.
Tomorrow would be yesterday.
No map to guide her.
she finally gave up hope.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where today Mish is asking us to write a poem that somehow deals with the word “mask.”
lillian the home poet 
I LOVE the first two stanzas.
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Thank you, Shawna. I had a poetry mentor who always said, “look for the poem within the poem” and I think you’ve done that here! 🙂 Glad you enjoyed.
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This is wonderful…. sometimes we all lurch through life- perhaps not always in high heels…so sad that she gave up hope. We must never give up hope.
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Oh yes, Alison. The “lurching” can be done in many kinds of shoes and even barefoot!
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Sad to live without a map or a future. Endless strife for some. Powerful poetry about homelessness.
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Thank you, Olga. Sometimes I am surprised where my pen takes me. I think despair of any kind is so bottomless for some…and the giving up of hope must be seen in an abyss for many.
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Beautiful. Sad. Still, groovy scene with such feeling. 😎😎😎🥀🥀🥀
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Thank you!
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I feel that this is a case of becoming the mask… and the weight of that is terrible
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Exactly.
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Marvelous lines! Lurched through life – just perfect and the mardi gras metaphor is uniquely done.
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Thank you, Jilly. I do think that sometimes masks are forced upon us….the question is, Do the “invisible” of our society wear masks?
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Oooh! A question worthy of pondering.
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Heavy weight hangs here in this poem. Very well written Lil.
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Thank you, Paul.
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I love the idea of an affection stealing bandit, Lill! I also identify with the lines:
‘peripheral vision hampered,
mask drawn too close to her soul’.
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Thank you, Kim. Glad you enjoyed this one…a bit dark and somehow more fitting for this gray rainy Boston morning than yesterday’s sunshiney one.
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Although I suspect one shouldn’t give up hope it is easy to see how one is tempted to if one is thinking about stealing affection or getting mardi gras beads as masks hamper vision.
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When I sit in my comfortable home on this gray and rainy day, I cannot imagine the life of those who are on the streets or are somehow invisible in their pain. To lose hope, that must be the most painful point in living.
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So sad. I’ve seen her in the homeless spots, her worldly belongings in a beat-up cart, her eyes empty and without hope.
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Yes. Exactly. The “invisible” among us — we can see them. We must.
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So sad and an accurate picture of homelessness (for some), When hope dies there is nothing else…
Anna :o]
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Yes….that most painful point in life must be when one is on the abyss and believes there is no hope.
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I agree with Anna’s comment…this could depict homelessness, hopelessness…even suicidal thoughts. Some search but never find peace.
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Exactly. The abyss of depression…for far too many.
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peripheral vision hampered,
mask drawn too close to her soul.
Being too cautious may doom one’s efforts into nothingness.Very true Lillian, It stifles the initiative
Hank
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Glad you enjoyed this one, Hank.
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‘Waiting for the mardy grass to throw beads her way’ – Shit hot words! T
What a delectable image. Thank you!
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Glad you enjoyed!
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Lovely poem, but sad ending. I never want to give up hope.
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I agree. We must all hang on 🙂
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Powerful stuff, Lil–the image of the rat on the grate is haunting, metaphorically & viscerally–a prompt in itself. I got a little lost myself in the twist from selfish & insincere to homeless & hopeless–but enjoyed the ride.
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Thanks, Glenn.
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A mask drawn too close to your soul is bound to be destructive…losing sight of one’s self altogether!
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I agree. So important to love ourselves…and then we are able to love others.
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Absolutely!
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” some kind of bandit
hoping to steal affection,”
brilliant – am sure Dylan could write a song to this
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Great comment to read here, Laura. Many thanks! 😉
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