The mask.

Would I be that person you know,
If my face was not a made one?
Would you acknowledge that face?
If it was not to your liking?

Do I have to put a face on for you?
Or is it just to answer my own anxiety?
You smile but you don't say
You stay but you don't answer.

Is it I that you admire?
Or that which man has made?
If you want me changed
Then why did you want ME?.

The scars of change run deeper than your skin,
They stay with you as sure as rivers run,
Yet they are mine to bear.
Mine alone to bear.

As I walk through each chapter of life that i am given,
I find my mask takes more precious moments,
Takes my life... yet I am still me underneath.
Who wants to see the real me?.

I do.... Goodness me... I do.