Tuning

Courtesy, I bow for strangers.
So many masks
Of so many colors
Predestination, or choice?
Lacking that which I present
For utter apeasement
only to be blemished
in solitary.

That marvelous spectacle
This mirror is fake diamond
The way Ryan walks
He sounds and talks
How he thinks
Only wishing
To grow out of Halloween
And become myself.

I can hear my true spirit
Melodies and jazz
Floating on window sills
Echoing throughout the world
Let me be who I wish to be,
and stop being this fabled Ryan