Smoke and Mirrors


Today I’ll wake to daily pain

But I no longer let it own me

I found a way to keep me sane

To somehow keep my smile


Carefully under lock and key I keep

These scars and ruined bones

My skeleton in my cupboard stays

At least for now, anyway


It is just smoke and mirrors that I use

Illusions of the mind to pull me through

A trick I learnt from you

The only good to emerge from the evil you do


So I take my screams and place them in

An unused biscuit tin

A callous twist of fate might set them free

But that, is the uncertain happiness of being me


© 2013 by Peter Anstiss


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