When people look at me,
their not really seeing me.
What they see is a mask,
a mask that only serves to reflect,
to reflect what they want to see.
Behind the mask,
I hide my sorrow,
I hide my fear,
I hide my insecurities.
The mask is starting to wear off,
I think its time,
to take off this mask,
It is long past its time.
YOU ARE READING
Ticking
PoetryThe struggle is real - My attempts at poetry. Why the title? Life's a ticking clock, and it only stops once, when your time is up. Between that period, from when it starts till stops, you have the opportunity to make something of yourself. Be amazi...
