Thread: The Masks We Wear

I was bored and had this general idea for a poem in my head all day today, and felt like getting it out. I get those weird thoughts from time to time and today felt like putting it out there for y'all to read. I'm not much of a poet, wrote the whole thing in about 30 minutes, but it speaks my mind and feelings, as poetry should. Ok, enough excuses, here it is, I hope you enjoy it.

The Masks We Wear

Behold me, a face that stands in a crowd,
You walk by, I smile; all seems to be calm,
Though the face that just smiled is all just a façade,
It’s a mask of a man who has no cares at all.

Yet underneath this persona is face that is old,
Its heart low and heavy from lonely and cold,
It conforms without doubt but holds questions within,
Who am I, who are they, is it more than a grin?

See there, a cute girl, white teeth, pouty lips,
She stands waiting on people, making money off tips,
Has hopes and dreams of a better tomorrow,
The shroud of a woman with no signs of sorrow.

Her mirage may seem subtle, but goes deeper than skin,
It covers a mind that needs go on a whim,
Oh what they would say, what they’d think, what they’d do,
Is this all that is out there; the one thing that’s true?

Day in and day out we hold nice conversations,
Our masks play the game; no improvisations,
So pretentious it’s painful and grips at our faces,
Just waiting till one day man loses his graces.