A cloak, a hat, a mask, a belt, a vest—
This costume that resignedly I wore
Was tailored to delight my friends with poor
Reflections showing things that they liked best.
Indeed, I thought that, to be happiest,
I had to leave the truth behind my door
In favor of this costume, bright but sore
Upon my shoulders, chafed with lack of rest.
Pretentiousness prevailed in my own life
Until, one day, a man, perhaps a thief,
Assaulted me and ripped my whole disguise.
No longer wearing costume-clothing rife
With lies, my person floated from the reef
Of self-delusion into honest skies.