Identity 3 : The Hidden

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The Hidden

At the stroke of midnight

The weary flee the floors;

Pride holds back the dreams you had

That follow out the doors.

Games are played and names are changed,

And three old childhood friends

Give way to newer meanings that

See them to their ends.

I will find a little place,

A small world of my own --

And there I'll seek the peace that comes

To those that weep and mourn!

But far and few, the fresh and new

Will see me dancing on:

In steps and swirls and risky whirls,

Braving dusk and dawn.

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