House of Cards
Strutting through life in polished shine,
a second hand version of an image divine
Overly curated, put together and fixed,
a skilled magician in illusions and tricks
Stacking filters on images,
reflections of imitation gold,
but truth,
where for art thou TRUTH—lies in stories untold.
“Fake it till you make it,” and we all comply,
threading masks with needles and lies.
Scars beneath designer stitching and seams,
while burying trauma in hours on screens
Leaking pain known to all but thy self,
Ignoring your heart on a dusty shelf
Feelings? Your preference to suppress and quell
As those around you tiptoe on eggshells
The spirit; she whispers, but shame screams loud,
while demanding applause from a faceless crowd
“Am I enough?” echoes in our collective chest,
while our suppressed hearts cry is dressed to impress to get more press
Say less
We’re all actors on life’s stage,
paying homage to our rage
Scene One: Trauma.
Scene Two: Armour.
Scene Three: Flight or Fight.
Scene Four: Addicted to Drama.
Steel-plated personas,
we swerve, weave and dodge
Project self at the centre,
imprisoned under camouflage
Tormenting shadows pouncing in the fog,
like doom scrolling trolls in stench festy bogs
In longing for freedom,
we’ve built a facade
Wrapped ourselves up like mummy’s
hiding desperately what’s flawed
Longing for the crowds to clap and applaud,
so not to be reminded we feel like a fraud
We edit, we crop, we filter, we delete,
like manicured avatars with cracks running deep
The cracks? They’re a wound, but they’re also a door,
for love to flood in and transform into more
Believing you are your highlight reel,
your posts, your flawless displays,
but authenticity lies in undoing in the frays
Not living life as if it is fiction,
but embodying reality and facing the friction
We sculpt and smooth, we shapeshift and conceal,
convinced and deluded that the mask is what’s real
But real is the stutter, the stumble, the cry,
the courage to be known, and the bravery to try
The soul never forgets the path it has trod,
attune to inner nudges, maybe that’s God
Drop the covers for they bind you up in chains,
true release is found in facing the pain
To face the raw truth, to wrestle the dark,
to rise from the ashes with a wholehearted heart
For the cracks in your armour,
the flaws in your clay,
are the sacred wounds that may heal your way
Drop the pretense, the fake and the tiring guise,
the smoke and mirror’s lies are just fear in disguise.
Unveil your soul, bare your true name,
for healing can come when you quit deluded games
See, everyone can sense it you’re the only one whose blind
the Giver is Peace, seek Him then you will find
For you really only have one true divine call
but in order to surrender to that
you must let your house of cards fall
E te Atua,
Whakapaingia tō mātou wairua,
Arohia mai mātou, kia kaua e huri i tō mātou mana.
Kia noho mātou ki te tika me te pono,
Aroha mai kia kaua ngā whakama me ngā mamae
E whakahaere i tā mātou ao.
Kia noho mātou hei tangata pono,
Ki ngā tangata, ki te whenua, ki te wairua,
Amine
