We often dig our masks out from the drawer
to cover and disguise what we can’t face:
Perhaps a conversation, or a place
where we can’t bear to visit anymore.

We want to hide, to speak in silent voice,
and disappear away from rushing crowd.
Without a word we talk, but not out loud.
For just a time we need to make this choice.

What does your mask look like? A smile when frown
is how you feel? Something you cannot fix?
Instead of happiness a pile of bricks?
A drooping hat instead of sparkling crown?