BEHIND THE MASK
a Breakfast at Tiffany's poem by JetNoir
as Cat leaps upon my head
the dog that is your face
leers and groans
but I'm perfectly hidden
in a web of non-existence truths
my fingers strum the strings
that might have been made from the
gut of Cat, but more likely
the gut of me: for every time
I strum, I move further away
from what I truly am
oh! woe is me, and all
silly nonsense that merely
takes us away from the
question in my mind
that can we be truly happy
if we do not know each other
my darling Fred, could you be
my quiet salvation? or just another
rat?
my heart burns, but there
is quite simply, absolutely
nothing I can do, until
I ask the
simple question
what lies,
behind the mask?
Note: Just a little poem I got an idea from - and my love of Hannibal is showing. As I wrote in Wildcat, I love the film more than the novel, but still I wonder if they are truly right for each other (answer: of course they are!). But it's nice to celebrate my two year anniversary with this. As always, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review.
Disclaimer: All characters are copyright to Truman Capote/Paramount Pictures; and the poem to me. This poem has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (that includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!
JetNoir
