Before they've drawn the curtain, my mask runs in layers.
Too late I've discovered, that I was pending erroneously.
I waited in the wrong cupboard, with the sugars and sweet tea.
Thought my bleat was frail, and that this is why the flock shunned me,
Until I realized I had not failed. I was merely their black sheep.
So instead of bleaching a coat, and looking like a misfit
I must shrug and forget their gloat, for I was not stubborn or dishonest.
Just as you need vinegar, and darkness pitch
You need me, sugar. And you need me, light, admit!
At times I'm rather certain, I'm the piece of a different design, my friend.
Before you close the curtain, ask where your 'hero' is without his 'villain'.
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