To laugh, to cry, mimics the mind
To an emotion,
And singular, the outline;
Collectively, its notion.
Behind each expression, the
Most hidden of clues;
But scratches from the surface,
The answer, to the few;
The body, closer, enemied by fear,
And within, the hero,
Holding on for dear.
But panic and it fails,
No longer the mass proud,
So alone, enshadowed, and
Still, in a crowd.
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