Behind the masks.
Which tasks are being addressed.
And which will be picked,
From an array of them considered to be...
Prioritized as serious.
Who is it that will take the lead,
In this dance of deceiving hypocrisy.
One so prolonged in an outdated rhythm.
Hoping a charade has come to its end.
But who amongst the movers and shakers,
Will find it beneficial...
That a superficial masquerading,
Has had its last steps to make.
Behind those worn to wear,
Worned out masks.
Who will take that risk,
To resist opposition.
Pre-conditioned to remain,
Representatives of a past.
Buried in cemeteries.
Under manicured cut grass.
What future wished,
To believe can exist.
With many attempting to recycle,
Renovate and rejuvenate...
That which has gone.
And belongs to stay where it is.
A step to allow,
Others from it to move forward.
Done to embrace what is ahead.
Without foolishly taking those steps,
To erase those tomorrows.
Not for some but for everyone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem