My mask a simple clear mask tied with a piece of string in play
until the string snapped
I clutched it to my face the tool growing no longer transparent
The mask wears a Fools grin mocking me
In turn I only grip tighter determined to disappear
It was not enough there was a glimpse of me through the cracks
That flustered the audience to give no applause
I resolved to make a new mask to cover the first
To act across Shakespeare’s stage
Create more layers, play more parts, bringing people more than itself to life
When the lights fade and the last flower falls
Alone they slowly slide off one by one
until the mask mourns
Forlorn without it’s string
Forgetting who wore it in play