I smile and shake hands, it’s not so bad,
Just pull a bit here and stretch a bit there,
But as the small talk starts my muscles ache
And I go quite quiet beneath their stare.

I pull my mask off with relief
To feel the solid mask beneath.

The talk goes on and I don’t mind,
This face is far more stronger in design.
Even still, as time goes on,
The mask slips slightly; a clear sign.

I pull my mask off with relief
To feel the solid mask beneath.

This one’s better, and made of will,
Built of fears and childish names,
But also sadness, anger, hate,
And all the ways they are to blame.

I pull my mask off with relief
To feel the solid mask beneath.

I’m running low on faces now
And the others start to pick it up,
Gently, slowly, the chatter halts
And people drink from wary cups.

The silence in a room of noise
Tells me that’s my cue to go.
The faces that I brought with me
Are packed up for another show.
As I grow old, they age with me,
Some thicker skinned as time goes by.
Others shatter with a blow,
And one is my face, by-the-by.