my mask

will does not force my mask,

a loney mood and empty flask,

does make my mind go numb,

behind this smile that you see,

is not a face so carefree,

abandon hope of helpful hands,

that sheers this mask from where it stands,

my mask of flesh and blood,

a scab of what I want,

to hide the face of real,

shall remain forever there,

to hide what i feel,

and protect what is scarred,

and so i walk in shame,

with my mask of fame,

until someone see's what I feel.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741