A past "fine"

   Walk this way. Straighten your
posture. No slumping please. Elbows off
table. Hold your head up.

   Creak. Creak. Creak. Tick. Tick.
Tock. Time creeps away. Toned to
elegance yet cutting inside.

  Sitting prim. Caked by layers of
powdered toxins. Covering black,
blue, green and yellow. A smile
plastered on and practiced "okay",
"fine" echo out of mouth.

  Inside the spirit free. Not
choked. One step ahead of another.
A tear hidden, longing to damage
the years of baked, bleached skin.

  Only those who knew, those
who entered saw through my eyes.

  That was yesterday. Long ago
wiped away the fear.

   No reason to still use caution
for fear of man, none worth that
power.

   Dare you wonder, dare you ask?
Fine is still an answer. Just look in
eyes to see truth, to see my free spirit
soaring.