Happy faces, empty masks,
Behind which demented souls lie, stricken.
Sinful desires, unbridled lusts,
Appalling secrets everyone has, hidden.
Away from public judgement and scrutiny,
Thus presenting themselves as little clay angels,
Immune to the critical mouths of imperfect strangers,
In a vain effort to preserve their miserable sanity.
Ho! A new breed arrives, all bright and shiny,
Pure souls, shimmering, like pale ghosts in this
Depraved world. Rare pinpoints of light, shining
Futilely to dispel the dark and enshrouding mists.
A people that wear not masks but bare
Their naked souls, that all may bear witness
To the lack of blemish and weakness,
Instead find undaunted love and care.
All around, people cringe from these apparitions,
Unable to withstand, such blatant exposure,
The clothed averting their eyes pure
From these atrocious naked abominations!