Just Faces Poem by Robert Rorabeck

It is alright to have to sing by yourself
Into the shadows,
To have to swing over the make-believe
That you have to pay for—
So when you get there,
To your relatives or two heaven,
You behave and look like
A monster—
Well, it is New Year's again—
The world didn't end, or it didn't
Come down to what you'd hoped for—
And the beauty in the eyes of a egret
Was just looking up into
A primordial cloud—
The shadows pantomiming their obnoxious
Memories—and she, your
One or two muses just faces
Lost in the crowd.