The Mask
Another day goes by
Another night past
Each one slightly more useless
Than the last.
Trapped in this mind state more
With each fragmented day.
Will I ever escape?
Do I want to get away?
The darkness which seized me
Now refuses to go.
Yet the happy mask covers
What lies below.
To pretend to be
Is to become.
I've played the joyous
Fool for too long.
If I were somber
For a fortnight or so,
May I enjoy levity
Again as once ago?
How much longer will I
Maintain my pretense?
What I though was really me
Has left, gone hence.
What was at first false
Has now become true.
The mask won't come off
The mask is you.
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Copyright © 1998 John B Cooke IV
House o' Poetry
Jack'n'Jim World