To conceal our errors, our scars-

Anything

We keep to ourselves and pretend-

Masquerading is

Our closest friend

We do something

We shouldn’t be doing

To conceal our shame

And convey goodness

But

Errant we remain and

Conscience beseeches

To reveal our errors

And ask for assistance

Instead

We stay undercover

Like an earthquake

Releasing tremors

Of Withering

Esteem

And proliferating

Madness-

A constant inner war

That we long to

Be freed from.

All we need to do-

Express ourselves, then

Errors unfold into

Intimations of need

Where peers along

With the One above

Can lift us

To the honest place

We yearn to remain