The man and mask

The man, a mask and his crooked walk, had faded out of sight,
His lonely tooth, his toothless smile, his eyes moist and bright,
He swung on his way, singing gung-ho hey, and held on to the bottle of wine,
Alas, he was gone and not seen at all, his footprints proof; he was fine.


His mask had weathered with time, but he held it close to his heart.
It had after all been his face, when his smile grace and youth were his part,
The colours may have faded with time, but it had stood by him as a friend,
And now the man and his mask had aged but together years they would spend.


If the years to come were of grief, they would cry together for sure,
If happiness came a visiting, they would share the feelings pure,
And if came death, with arms wide open, they would both embrace
A life that had been entwined by two faces would fade away in a face.


The mask had been the man, when he searched for himself in youth,
The two together, were but one, but for a fateful day in June,
The day that seperated the man and the mask, was when he fell from a height,
He got back on his crooked feet and bent too much to his right


And then he walked to the place on the wall and took off the mask and said;
"Friend! oh friend, you are me and together we will be,
In sickness, health or better days,
You and me, you and me, you and me..