The Mask

Every morning I wake,
Wash the canvas,
Put on my mask.
This mask is amazing and ever changing;
One day upsetting, or angry, the next, joyful and exuberant.
This mask is the epitome of perfection;
Long lashes, perfect skin, perfect lips, and a perfect nose.
As long as you don't let anyone too close,
No one will ever know.
When born, everyone is born mask less: naked.
Through time, and criticism, and false loves, the mask begins to form.
Whether warranted, or uncalled for it begins to grow,
Thicker and thicker until there is nothing left.
Everyone does have a mask,
hiding their flaws, their baggage, their criticism, and marks from time on earth.
Some, more visible than others, more perfect, less perfect, thicker or thinner, regardless,
Everyone does have a mask.

Author's Note

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Reviews

[K.W.F]

I enjoyed reading this because I can relate to it so much. I'm always saying that I have a different mask for different people. It's just easier that way. Thanks for sharing it.