Speech of the Masquerade
I speak of the masks I hide behind.
It's not just me--
it's everyone.
It's anyone who wants to be accepted
for once in his or her life.
I speak of the boy who came home crying
after seventh period ended.
He ran from the teacher-less classroom,
trying his best to block out the teasing,
the constant jokes that now he even sounds like a girl.
He went straight to his room,
perched on his bed,
and escaped to his favorite books.
He escapes to lands of the Shire, Hogwarts, and Narnia,
wishing desperately that he could disappear
into these fantasy worlds.
And before boarding the bus,
he hides his bullet-ridden heart,
covers his once tear-stained face
with a plastered-on smile,
and struts down the hall
joking and laughing
along with everyone else
about the incident of the day before,
As if nothing had ever happened.
A sad, teased boy with a painted-on smile.
I speak of the girl who sits in the clarinet section,
finally off on a lunch break.
From her shaking hand
drops her cell phone into her Vera Bradley purse--
just broke up with her boyfriend over the phone.
Tears leak from the sides of her eyes.
She reaches into her bag
for a pair of dark sunglasses
and places them on her face,
covering her puffy red eyes.
She pulls her hoodie over her head
before slumping down in her chair.
From the outside,
she looks like everyone else.
On the inside,
her heart has been shattered
into a million glass shards.
She acts like it was nothing
because that's the way she's supposed to act,
the way her friends expect her to act.
A heartbroken girl trying to cover up
the shattered mess of her glass heart.
I speak of myself,
the girl who wants to show herself--
show the world that she’s something special--
but she’s afraid of what people will think.
She’s afraid they won't like her,
Maybe they'll tease her,
maybe her friends won't want to be around her anymore,
but she wants to be herself.
She wants to show the world
that she's something more than that quiet little bookworm
but she's scared.
So she hides herself
with her nose in a book
and keeps her thoughts locked up
in a notebook most sacred to her
and never lets anyone glimpse upon her glass heart
as she slowly fades into the background--
a girl whose voice is still waiting to be heard...
until now.
I speak of the face that is shown
when the mask is finally ripped off--
a sad, teased boy,
a heartbroken girl,
an unknown authoress--
all part of the masquerade called "Life."
As for me,
I now speak and command to be heard.
I abandon my mask,
for I no longer need it.
So now I speak,
for those to toss aside their masks
and show the world who we really are
and how we really feel.