Alexandria

A woman lived in ancient times;
she could not read or write.
But oh, the stories she could tell
were each a soul's delight.

The introvert has many thoughts,
but most will stay within.
And when he dies, those thoughts
will fade,
as if they'd never been.

The elderly have lived their days,
and time has left its mark.
There's history within their minds,
of love and loss and lark.

Who knows what knowledge becomes lost
Each time life's hourglass turns.
For people live, then people go;
with each, a library burns.

The Mask

Author unknown

Always a mask
Held in the slim hand whitely
Always she had a mask before her
face-
Truly the wrist
Holding it lightly
Fitted the task:
Sometimes however
Was there a shiver,
Fingertip quiver,
Ever so slightly-
Holding the mask ?

For years and years and years I
wondered
But dared not ask
And then-
I blundered,
Looked behind the mask,
To find
Nothing-
She had no face.

She had become
Merely a hand
Holding a mask
With grace.

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