Your Mask

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Be it made of paper maché or plastic,

carved mahogany with a golden veneer,

or crystal clear quartz glass.

You wear one.

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Morning, noon, and night;

removed only when sleep comes.

For what purpose does it serve your dreams?

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Dead eyed stare, twisted grin, or a curious

smile that creeps ever upward hiding a secret

sin.

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Callous nature cloaked behind a beguiling

eye of the bluest blue.

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A beauty called to recklessness,

a perfection that only Death will strive

to collect once due.

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Know this.

All facades eventually decay and crumble.

Leaving you bare before everyone and yourself

as you stare into the mirror trying to

collect the pieces to a mask that no longer

fits.

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By Philip Wardlow 2013

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Feeling overwhelmed? Yes, wearing a mask does that to you sometimes.