This is me trying to be my dad.

Persona-an attempt at a poem.

We all have something to be concealed.
It could be a secret life, a lover, several misdoings.
We go to such great lengths to keep these hidden,
But why? How wonderful would our world be
If no one had anything to hide?
Thieves would be put behind bars quickly.
Priests and pastors could ascend without guilt.
Honest folks would have nothing to worry about.
It would be a trustworthy world.
A kind world.
A gracious world.
A forgiving world.
But, alas. That isn't how
It's supposed to be, is it.
We all have things to hide. We build secrets
Around that singular idea of ours to keep people guessing.
No matter how hard we try, we can't help
But cover up our faults.
And what do people use to cover faults?
Makeup, of course!
People's personas are their makeup.
The more glamorous, the better, right?
The thicker it's applied, the deeper the underlying problem is.
That's the common idea.
But don't think that's only for cheap hookers and sleazy motel night managers.
So, to you, reader, I present a question.
Why is a persona so important?
What's better than your honest-to-goodness self?
This is purely a matter of opinion.
But obviously, we all need a persona.
To some degree at least.
It's a necessity in this, our petty existence.