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Masking Me Uncaringly

Mask that unfortunately,
is masking me,
holding me inside of myself.
Keeping me locked up,
never to have the key,
to set myself free from me.

Broken, just shattered,
I cried there,
I laid there in that blood,
that mask my heart,
with heartless intentions.

Beaten, withered,
to my weary core,
no hope, no love.
I have wasted away myself,
became a distant figurine,
even in my only little world.

Mask that uncaringly,
cares for me,
does it help or hurt?
Maybe keeping me the keepsake,
is the only way to keep myself safe.

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W

W.C.Wampler

17 years 3 months ago

the Mask poem

A5, This is designed to help your self. Good questions here. Write again about a posative direction. Then again. When what's behind the mask is revealed, one may as well take it off, and lay it down. Then again, what do I know? wcw