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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2152885
One who goes through life wearing a mask is doomed to a life of misery
I wear a mask.
Blank at first, but soon it burst forth into a face of its own.

It thrives and flourishes at first
But, soon that happiness starts to waver
And so I don another mask.
And so the circle is born once more.

A new mask is born
The seeds of a new life are sown
And soon the flourishing remains of my old life fade.
Until my memories of them gray
And all I have left are masks
Hollow remains of the true I.

And I'm left scrambling to find the real me
In a sea of endless hollow screams.
Just to find the real me, whose voice has long but gone.
But still, I run.

Through an endless corridor
Until I find a mirror
And in it, it all becomes clear!

I have long since donned my old self as just another mask
There it was, donned upon my face
Cracked beyond repair.

The price I paid for ever donning a mask.
And as I walk back through the endless screaming corridors
I ask myself but one question.
Should I don another mask?
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