Winging

By John I. Blair

As anyone knows
Who’s observed me very long,
My savoir-faire is but a pose,
Masking an abysmal ignorance
So deep I’ve never fathomed it.

Sure that those I meet
Will find me out, see through
My camouflage, beat down
My frail façade, I suffer
From a constant lack of confidence.

The only balm I can apply
Is to remind myself
The folk I greet along the street
Are skating through the day themselves,
Faking it just as much as me.

©2003 John I. Blair