Poem.
Here i am again sitting in the middle , people
wearing shiny smilling masks dancing around me in a ring,
taunting me, because i don’t wear their shiny mask.
But i have my own, it may be worn down,dusty,
and old, but i made it with my soul, with tears and blood.
Why can’t we just sit my friend, and let the masks drop.
Currently there are no comments related to "Masquarade". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!