An Introspection Poem by Greg Davidson

There is a time for rhyme,
And then there is another time.
There is a face I show,
And in another place,
Another face to see
And then there's me.

Is it me that in my rhyme I see,
Or do I lie?
What shall I be?

The mirror stands before,
Its image I ignore.
I wear a mask,
And still I ask,
What can this wretched creature be?

I seek a key to set me free,
But still the door lies open.
The way is marked with lantern clear
But still I stumble.
These words they trickle from my mind
In permutated jumble.

The truth I see,
The words aren't me,
But I am my word's decree.