My Plain Face Poem by Patti Masterman

If finding emptiness, instead of the world,
And what the world thinks beautiful; worthwhile-
I can't help it if I'm made this way,
Though for some reason, I can barely stay

Safe in the doorway, as they make their jokes;
And all the randomness, that our lives cloak,
But if depressed, I've always been the same-
Finding both the self and not-self, strange.

It seems in pieces, and I've done my share
To try to catalog my vague despair;
That I'm a stranger, in a stranger place:
It's written plainly, on my more plain face.