Masks
We all wear one;
thinking we've won.
When they're on it's black and white.
We get classified without a fight.
We are the jocks, beauty queens, and unknown freaks.
Don't even mention the video game geeks.
But where is the rest of the color spectrum.
Are the not welcome?
What about the jocks that like to read?
Or the players who want to water their seed?
Who are we when the masks come off?
Maybe we can end with a tradeoff.
With my mask on I'm strong and outspoken;
without it I'm insecure and broken.
That's who I am. But I wonder about you.
I wish you could just give me a clue.
Maybe you're a shining star.
Yeah, I bet that's who you are.
YOU ARE READING
The Slave Poet
PoesíaBattered and Broken. Left on a solemn path. Shackled to them... She needs to run. She needs to fight back. But, but she can't. She's left bound, unable to change her imprisonment. Her words are here. You just need to listen. Listen to the slave. Thi...
