Faces...faces
I have many faces
I am the Happy Mask Salesman,
travelling from far away places*
I don't have to be me...
If I don't like what I see.
Unaware, I fell for the demon's scheme.
I know what you wish to hide
my sweet dear
It is something my masks
can easily provide.
You see, not only do I sell,
I collect and exchange
through past and present
of your time.
You have worn masks before
I know,
and now they are mine.
I was afraid to begin with
but now my fear threatened
to consume me
Who was this man,
and what did he mean?
Masks are for children,
I suddenly say.
Maybe you do have masks of mine
They were only for play.
In my time of youth,
we played pretend.
Making masks of paper mache
of our animal friends.
Yes, yes indeed.
The wonderful complex human mind
gives the mask the power.
It brings the mask to life.
Become an animal of any kind.
Innocent youth...yes
but my dear, even though we grow
the games of pretend
still can be played.
They never really end,
do they?
He laughed again,
his icy chuckle.
though my fear subsided
and curiosity aroused instead.
There was a storm of questions
swirling in my head.
Where is he going with this?
Am I dreaming?
The second part of a series in which has no structure whatsover... First part can be found on my profile under poems.