I long for the day when I am not wrapped up in fabric,
nor trapped in textiles.
Yet I worry about the abiding impression…
The lines on my face, the notches and the etches.
The scars on my grace, the hole in my soul.
When the summer reigns
and I am free of chains and ready to bask,
will I still be strapped in an invisible mask?
- Author: Brimelow ( Offline)
- Published: March 20th, 2021 13:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 30
Comments3
Brimelow, we all wear masks all the time in order to seem to be the person the other people expect.
As Fred has said we all wear masks in differing situations but only to those we truly love is the mask removed.
Andy
Words of a Pharaoh...
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.