White, blank
Made of carton.
Paint it
With a brush of authenticity
Waving emotions

But did I mention it is out of carton
Touch the shell, rough
Broken
Enough
Pretending that you are tough
Peel it off
That is to be laughed

A piece of paper
Like my improving self-worth
Even if soaked
Even if loathed
Even if ruined
Wear it
Since that it is only my face

Life is not about living
But surviving
That is why we buy them
Then lose them
Then buy again


Take off the mask
And see the world for what it is
Not for the charade
Since I am only playing a game of masquerade