Cynicism?

Note: My apologies to the reader for the prosaic name I have given the poem. It was for want of a better one.

A kaleidoscope of figures
A flash of colour and sound.
A smile, a word exchanged,
A friend, a lover found.

A tune played, a song sung,
A droop of the eyelid.
A secret look, a strand of hair,
A gentle fleeting kiss.

And then like glass,
In a thousand shards,
The serenity was gone,
The smile was cold, the words sharp,
A silence replaced the song.

Something that was
Now seemed a dream,
A fantasy, a flight.
The beauty of it wasn't marred
But it felt like distant light.

Was it real? Was it pure?
Was it woven in the mind?
Was its tune sweet and clear?
Was its sound benign?

It felt a little hollow now
Like a silver fairytale
That enchants the mind, and brings a smile,
But is infact a veil.

Inspired by sudden sense
These words were laid down
A fantasy was pierced right through
But sanity was found.