Masks are what we see.
My true self isn’t what it seems.
The mask I hide under is shown,
But my true nature is unknown.
What do I hide under my mask?
I am a man under a mask,
A mask that gives ambiguity.
Even to myself, a man under a mask,
Why do I not show?
Sadness is held in like a gift.
My mask holds the sadness from within.
Pain I do not want people to know
Because the pain is furtive,
Trepidation prevents me
To show what’s under the mask,
Who am I to show who I truly am?