masking a mask
At the end of the day
I reach for my face
and my worn out mask comes off to reveal.
My true skin,
my true color
as does the snake when it sheds its skin.
I show genuin kindness to others
because everybeing
human, plant, animal, even fungi
diserve a bit of kindness,
A mosal of love.
But myself well that's a different story
I was not ment to be happy or loved
my job is to mearly satisfy others,
to carry the world on my shoulders,
to be the shoulder you cry on when
no one else is around
even though you never noticed
me before.
I may not have children
but I give all I can to my children
even though I know they may never
acknowlege my kindness,
or repay my kindness,
and the most heartbreaking
is I wish they will comprehend to do
as i have to the rest of the world
my mask of optimism not only covers up
my sadness but my dispair.