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Sep 2019
I opened my closet door and fingered through my masks
"Which one should I wear today" I wondered by myself
"Today is Susan's birthday, perhaps a happy face"
"Though John just lost his game, perhaps a sad one as well"
"And Tonya's mom is nervous, perhaps some empathy"
As I looked upon my masks to wear, all seemed quite fitting
I removed the mask I wore below, the mask of apathy
as I slowly peeled back this fleshy molded face
a salty barren field revealed its proper place
as true features themselves emerged
amuck with tears unnoticed
by myself
Written by
Perdue Poems  18/M
(18/M)   
212
   Bogdan Dragos
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