Faces

Enigmatic perhaps; aware almost

Possibly iniquitous; but to behold them
Is to understand
Faces follow a pattern
All lift their heads to the stars
Flickering high in a vast fastness  
They survey the insouciant enigma
With troubled eyes set deep in wonder
Because what it is; is ever, what it was
And we can no more change the stars
Than we can the face we have created
The face that hides beneath the person
That we thought would do the most good