Masks
We all have masks, they’re secure and weak,
A false representation of what lies beneath.
Terrified to perform the jist of your soul
Relying on the mask to keep it under control.
Suffocation takes hold, demanding a release
The truth bleeds through, exposing inner peace.
Intertwine in the fast lane, leaving all sins to prosper,
Identify the mirror; you’re no longer the imposter.
(2009)
This was the first poem I recall writing. It is basically a metphor of how people hide behind a mask, trying to convince society they're something other than the beauty that is them. At the end of the day, we all remove a mask.
