After the Parade

The Parade -

Could this be a modern-day Crusade?

Tribute has been paid

Our roles we’ve played

in this masquerade

Our truest selves displayed

proved ourselves unafraid

to leave others' dismayed

Our natural impulses obeyed

despite having been forbade

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When goodbyes are bade,

the memories become frayed

like shrapnel mislaid -

edges sharp as jagged jade

Doubts invade, negative thoughts pervade:

"Was it just a charade?"

“Am I not this person I have made?”

The crushing weight cascades

an upside-down serenade

by our detractors waylaid

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Sitting alone in dark

feeling an absence quite stark

the story begins to arc:

Will the resolve tear us apart?

Without the crowd connection

inspiring shared affection

It is hard not to question:

“Was it all just a bit of fun?”

"Who made me the Chosen One?"

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Facing off with those who us have flayed

or by our dearest betrayed

It is tempting to launch a tirade

maybe even sharpen the blade,

stage a raid, or throw a grenade

But that behavior won't make the grade

or get the desired message conveyed

So instead we opt to persuade -

trade the weapon for a spade

if we are this cause to aid

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After the Parade -

We resisted being clichéd

our intent relayed, the course stayed

and into groundwork paved

for the next Crusade (Parade):

So do we retreat into shade?

Anticipate foes along the promenade?

Convert those who can be swayed?

This is certain: everyone is remade,

a rising army of self-made

set to usher in a new decade