by S.C. Kleinhans

Created on: October 30, 2009

The masks we wear

are as shameful to us

as dirty, ill-fitting underwear.

They force others to believe...

As we futilely attempt to deceive.

The masks they pinch and bite.

They distort personalities

with a decidedly decadent bit

of demented delight.

Our sacred, scared, scarred

masks were woven by hand

with hate, lies, sighs and lust.

One day, in the distant future,

we will certainly leave them...

Scattered like discarded leaves.

Choking on several layers of

sand, debris and pools of dust.

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