Masks Unveiled
Thursday, January 21, 2010
10:02 PM
Hay guys.
Where will you go, when the party ends,
when the clock stops ticking and the music fades.
What will you do, when the dinner's over,
when the guests stop talking and the silence deafens you.
Who will you run to, when they pull off their masks,
when their faces of steel stare hard at you.
How will you hide, when they come at you hard,
with coaxing words from tongues of filth.
You've got no one to turn to, nowhere to run.
You stare at the mirror but the very sight irks you.
You see the deep marks from those heavy marks.
You try to smile but you look like a freak.
You try to frown but the marks protest.
Filled with resentment, you punch the mirror,
breaking it into snow-like pieces,
Your skin tears and the blood runs out like prisoners released.
Now the mirror's broken, and all that remains are the four whitewashed walls
staring peculiarly back at you, wondering why you're even here.
Maybe it's time to put those masks away.
And perhaps, if you were to look closer,
at the guests, you'd have found that beneath the
layers of masks, they wore the same face.
And that face belonged to you.
They were the different people you tried to be.
