The Quiet Corners

In the quiet corners of a crowded room, Where whispers dance and settle like the dust, I wear a smile a borrowed plume, Hiding in plain sight in the faces I trust, There’s a world outside bright and brash and loud, And I navigate its waters like a ghost, Drifting unseen by the bustling crowd, Adrift in the noise, an invisible host. And I’m dancing on the edge of a shadow, Painting my expressions in the hues of the day, In the silence, I find my shallow breath, Underneath the mask, where I lay my head to rest. There’s a laughter that I mimic well, a script I follow, line by line, But behind the curtain, where I dwell, The truth is a melody, out of time.