End of a Masquerader

She tried so hard to be different--

To be different is to matter--

She wasn't ever satisfied by

The plain face within the mirror.

 

Mascara, powder, fake visage,

The face, it's me, but still it isn't

It's an image of society

A world with me imprisoned in it

 

Bound by rules and codes and cliques

by who knows who and royalty

Tied down by social chess piece moves

Of prestige, prowess, seniority

 

Who will like me? Who will not?

Could I ignore things defined?

Social parading, masquerading,

Between fine lines of things confining

 

Stifled by the fear of judgment

Words to say but saying none

Halted by the very concept

Of messing up or speaking wrong.

 

And then one year the curtains rippled

The seams were split, a crack showed through

And with the light a novel thought

That those who matter thought I did too

 

So it came forth, music, bird-watching,

Nerdy, awkward, love of God,

Spontaneous bursting into song

Curtains open, covers drawn.

 

And so the mask was lifted

And the face now showing clearer

As the teenage girl now recognized

The face within the mirror. 

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