Charades

At work they give mime lessons

called being a team player,

learning to smile and perform on their command,

careful not to show the strings

attached to every move

by their puppeteer hands.

 

Happiness is the word

meant to be conveyed by of our performance,

we all get to act out by deeds

whose name they guessed before we started,

yet never wondering

if it is really how you feel

since silence is the keeper

of what we gain by fear.

 

Paychecks are the knives

held against your throat,

forcing you to act out the pretense

that they define as truth,

one more gesture falsified

saving the neck

from the termination guillotine.

 

Survived the play their wrote

for another eight hours,

leaving and stopping by the gas station

seeing that same bogus look of serenity

on the cashier’s face.

 

Guess we both practiced

so we don’t have to think about

how we lost in the game of ambition,

playing charades our form of victory.

 

Never mentioning that we lost

makes the memory less painful,

just keep on grinning and claiming to be grateful

knowing there is no judge for our contest

who will expose that it is all fake.