I see your mask. Worn wearily everyday to protect your insecurities.
And though I see this mask as the ugliest thing ever, most call it beauty.
Eyes shadowed, lashes lengthened by a cover girl pencil and brush
Your not even embarrassed but somehow your cheeks blush
The soft lips that outline your beautiful smile
hidden under a hard red cover from superficiality's vial
This mask hides your fears.
Fear that you don't mirror the media's projected image of beauty
Fear of being brought down, defaced, and slandered by many
Fear that you will never be accepted unless you look like those who strip to pleasure immoralities
So I dare you to strip for me
starting with your insecurities