I wear a mask that lies to creating a disguise that covers my cries dripping slowly from my eyes
I wear a mask that conceals my fear of prejudice, which seems unquestionably cowardice
I wear a mask of wisdom to secrete my blindness and absentmindedness
I wear a mask of perfection to camouflage my flaws, which is difficult to withdraw.
I wear a mask of confidence to cloak the burden of insecurity, becoming my enemy of uncertainty.
I wear nothing, paying the price for rolling the dice.
I finally understand the dangers of wearing a mask, because I became what I pretended to be.