Another poem. This one is a bit darker than many of my other poems I have in my collection. I don't exactly know what I was feeling while writing this, but it just came to me and I started writing.

For those of you who don't want to suffer the hassle of downloading because it won't show up above, the poem in question is below:

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Iron Rose

I saw him today,
I touched his cold face,
I said to him, “Hello,”
Before parting without a trace.

The people all cried,
Weeping like sheep,
For the man in the white suit,
Who never missed a beat.

I watched silently on,
As tributes passed through the crowd,
Praising a faceless entity,
Whose life was made of doubt.

A lively, beautiful man,
Open and compassionate to life,
Always bearing a perfect smile,
He always avoided strife.

Eyes shining bright aquamarine,
Like the free-flowing ocean,
A spirit one with God,
Constantly floating.

Good Samaritan carved on his coffin,
Countless awards for selfless service,
And I knew very well,
The man lived with mice.

Blanketed by feelings of fear,
Loathsome and animosity,
He cloaked his insecurities,
In a makeup ever so glossy.

His job was nothing,
His spouse abandoned him,
A drug-addicted wreck of a man,
Yet he found ways to face them.

A master con-man,
He fooled them and played God,
Yet he inevitably failed to fool,
The one called God.

Once I talked to him,
For a while in my dreams,
“I’m a fraud,” he said,
Things are never what they seem.

So I left a single rose,
On his grave that night,
But I knew in my heart,
That it just wasn’t right.