I can't find my brave face.
I know it was around here somewhere.
I'm searching, sifting through
the masks of brokeness,
tear stained and scared
which are beckoning me
to don them
and go face the world
shattered.
I can't find my coat of armor.
I know it was around here somewhere.
I'm searching, sifting through
a rack full of cloaks of many colors
with hearts sewn on their sleeves
worn threadbare
which are beckoning me to don them
and go chilled numb into the world
in tatters.
I can't find my well heeled shoes.
I know they were around here somewhere
I'm searching, sifting through
a pile of ones I can not fill
and those that the journey
has worn soulless
which are beckoning me to don them
to walk out on shaky ground,
rattled.
And I can't find my hat
to shield me from the downpour,
and I can't find my glovesthat cease the wringing of my hands,
I can't find the muffs
that cease the ringing in my ears.
I can't find the keys to the car
to drive me far
away from here.
I can't find the X on the map
to know this path is exact,
can't even find the map at all,
and there's no writing on the wall.
So I remain,
naked, barefoot, lost,
wondering what is the cost
of what mattered.
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