Things are not always what they seem, and people who live by denial will end up, so sadly, paying a heavy price ..
There are no monsters here – the day burns bright
The peerless sun glides through the matchless sky
And all is clear, drenched in revealing light,
And nothing hides, no lingering shadows lie.
Here, crystal tea parties upon the lawns
And ladies in pale dresses sit at ease
And crystal conversation, soft, adorns,
The social sweetness everybody sees.
Here smiles come ready made and laughter clinks
Like silver spoons in teacups going round
In dervish motion, and the sugar sinks
In liquid silence, crystalline and drowned.
Keep your nails short, lest talons should rip through
This painted canvas, beautifully displayed
Make sure, make sure, in everything you do,
That all your anguished efforts are repaid.
Intact! Intact! Here let no rudeness thrust
Through these defences, brittle and so dear.
You hold it all together, for you must
How else can you believe it is sincere?
How else? How else? The monsters stay below
In careful crafted caves beneath the ground.
We only see the things we choose to know:
Nothing distasteful, darkened or unsound.
And who, in this bright landscape so desired,
Knows what those banished monsters darkly do.
Or where they lurk in corners old and tired,
To wait the hour when they devour you?