The Mask

Upon my face, a mask
Carved with confidence 
And riddled with resolve. 
Upon my face, a sneer
That says I can see
Past the cynicism. 
Upon my face, the sort of
"I can handle it"
That picks people's noses
Up from their smartphones. 
Upon my face, a mask
Smoothed to the demands
Of a society that can't tell
Success from suffering
Or defeat from resignation
Because it's too busy 
Swooning over the dream
At the end 
And won't wake up long enough
To admire the journey. 
A society that I conform to
Because what other voices 
Are telling me anything different? 
Upon my face, a lie. 

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