The Petty Tyrants

And I have things within me, though unseen, belong.
Often enough the outer look belies the inner stare
With its sweet interpretations.
And what you guess you see is born from the need
To keep Hyde hidden.
Where loving lies, rears lust -
Where happiness., melancholy -
Where friendship feeds, breeds hate -
Where I seem to listen, I sneer.
And I have all these things hidden within.
And they await to break through
These sweet shell interpretations.

As freedom endures.