Pantomime

Pantomime is a friend of mine that wakes me every morn
He whispers in my ear words I don't want to hear
Tries to convince me to curse the ideas that will be born
Pantomime has a quiet resign and when I am weak appears
He twists the dagger deep into my side
Where my soul resides and gags my mouth so I can't speak
Pantomime infiltrates my mind and puts glasses on my eyes
He narrates things that I see possibilities that won't be
And reality he masks with a cleaver disguise
Pantomime is easy to find in the shadow of every idea
He colors the sun black tells me things to get me off track
And condemns with attacks my prescribed panaceas
Pantomime always distorts time telling me it's too soon or too late
He shows me his watch and plans that are botched
And my heartless hope he saturates
Pantomime is never kind yet I keep him so very near
He listens to my moans with my doubts makes me feel at home
Shrouds my failures with blankets of fear
Pantomime drunkens me like a sweet wine and fogs my thoughts
Right appears wrong and clatter seems like a song
Success and home strangled by strings of doubt