Masks are what we see.

My true self isn’t what it seems.

The mask I hide under is shown,

But my true nature is unknown.

What do I hide under my mask?

I am a man under a mask,

A mask that gives ambiguity.

Even to myself, a man under a mask,

Why do I not show?

Sadness is held in like a gift.

My mask holds the sadness from within.

Pain I do not want people to know

Because the pain is furtive,

Trepidation prevents me

To show what’s under the mask,

Who am I to show who I truly am?