Made of Masks

I am chained and controlled,

I am a soulless marionette.

Life gets more painful fold after fold,

I don’t know who I even am yet.

 

I have so many masks,

I don’t know which one’s truly mine.

Down they fall, flawed and filled with cracks,

I say I’m okay, but am I truly fine?

 

The last mask falls, but I see nothing in the mirror,

I’ve taken away them all, I am nothing.

I have no real face, I scream in terror,

Scarred and scared, upon my fear, I’m choking.

 

What am I for real, who is truly me?

I don’t know now, but let’s just wait and see.

Reviews

[Shawna]

I really love this poem because I can relate to it. It is full of emotion and sometimes we all fall into a masked routine and you truely expressed this. Thank you for sharing!