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(
[sid] => 70310
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => He Wears a Mask
[time] => 2004-11-05 20:45:22
[hometext] => I wrote this poem about a friend of mine who always seemed to be keeping everything just below the surface. I think you'll get the idea once you read it.
[bodytext] => I see him walking down the hallway every day. He laughs with his friends, but when he glances at me; his big brown eyes are full of pain. He tries to make excuses, but I can see through all of them. He stands tall, talks big, but I know that inside he’s just a scared little kid. I can see it in his face; he’s seen things that he shouldn’t, that he wishes he’d never seen. So many secrets. He could fill a well with all of the things that he wishes he could forget. He appears to be a normal person, but he’s got secrets deeper than the earth. He’s got things nobody else knows. His dreams, the ones he keeps buried in his heart, are ones that he wouldn’t dare let out. So many secrets that they’re trying to get out. They escape out his eyes in frightened glances; they sneak out his mouth in mumbled whispers. He sweats secrets, leaving a trail of jumbled thoughts behind him wherever he goes. I can smell it on his breath, the rotten, rancid smell of dying soul, being crushed by the weight it must carry; ever-present, ever-growing. He doesn’t dare breathe a word of any of it to his friends; they think he’s perfect. They think everything is great and wonderful because that’s what he wants. Why would he want to let them in, when they know absolutely nothing of where he’s been and what he’s been through; the things he’s had to deal with would leave them dumbfounded. So he keeps it all locked up inside. A mask of blissful perfection, a pretty, youthful mask with a permanent glowing smile. All day long he wears this mask, never daring to remove it even long enough to breathe. I can imagine him at home at night, very carefully taking it off. All the scars of despair, the wrinkles of worry, and the blood from the secrets pounding pounding to get out; it all shows. His eyes stay the same; desperate, searching, terrified. In the daytime his face is filled with joy and laughter, but at night, when he’s alone and he can’t sleep, and he lies awake in his bed of terror and lies, the patterns on his ceiling paint the most frightening pictures. His nightmares must be horrible, making him wake up screaming in terror, drenched in cold sweat, grasping for his life. Why can’t they see through his mask, so poorly made; so thin? I seem to be the only one he reaches out to, the only one he trusts to see the seams of this mask. He looks at me, so feebly and gives me quiet hints, as if to scream “Help!” without anyone else hearing. Yet how does he expect me to help him out of his mask of perfection, when I have not even managed to get out of my own?
[comments] => 7
[counter] => 169
[topic] => 13
[informant] => EternalEnigma
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 5
[ratings] => 1
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => DarkPoetry
)
He Wears a Mask
Contributed by
EternalEnigma
on
Friday, 5th November 2004 @ 08:45:22 PM in AEST
Topic:
DarkPoetry
|
I see him walking down the hallway every day. He laughs with his friends, but when he glances at me; his big brown eyes are full of pain. He tries to make excuses, but I can see through all of them. He stands tall, talks big, but I know that inside he’s just a scared little kid. I can see it in his face; he’s seen things that he shouldn’t, that he wishes he’d never seen. So many secrets. He could fill a well with all of the things that he wishes he could forget. He appears to be a normal person, but he’s got secrets deeper than the earth. He’s got things nobody else knows. His dreams, the ones he keeps buried in his heart, are ones that he wouldn’t dare let out. So many secrets that they’re trying to get out. They escape out his eyes in frightened glances; they sneak out his mouth in mumbled whispers. He sweats secrets, leaving a trail of jumbled thoughts behind him wherever he goes. I can smell it on his breath, the rotten, rancid smell of dying soul, being crushed by the weight it must carry; ever-present, ever-growing. He doesn’t dare breathe a word of any of it to his friends; they think he’s perfect. They think everything is great and wonderful because that’s what he wants. Why would he want to let them in, when they know absolutely nothing of where he’s been and what he’s been through; the things he’s had to deal with would leave them dumbfounded. So he keeps it all locked up inside. A mask of blissful perfection, a pretty, youthful mask with a permanent glowing smile. All day long he wears this mask, never daring to remove it even long enough to breathe. I can imagine him at home at night, very carefully taking it off. All the scars of despair, the wrinkles of worry, and the blood from the secrets pounding pounding to get out; it all shows. His eyes stay the same; desperate, searching, terrified. In the daytime his face is filled with joy and laughter, but at night, when he’s alone and he can’t sleep, and he lies awake in his bed of terror and lies, the patterns on his ceiling paint the most frightening pictures. His nightmares must be horrible, making him wake up screaming in terror, drenched in cold sweat, grasping for his life. Why can’t they see through his mask, so poorly made; so thin? I seem to be the only one he reaches out to, the only one he trusts to see the seams of this mask. He looks at me, so feebly and gives me quiet hints, as if to scream “Help!” without anyone else hearing. Yet how does he expect me to help him out of his mask of perfection, when I have not even managed to get out of my own?
Copyright ©
EternalEnigma
... [
2004-11-05 20:45:22]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: He Wears a Mask
(User Rating: 1 )
by WorthlesSanity666 on
Friday, 5th November 2004 @ 08:55:01 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| I really liked your write, but I'm afraid i'm not much use in the way of advice. But I really liked it. I loved the ending you gave it. I'm so sorry that i cannot help, but I wish you and your friend all the strength in the world and more. Great job showing your emotions. |
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Re: He Wears a Mask
(User Rating: 1 )
by Sirena_Degana on
Friday, 5th November 2004 @ 09:32:52 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
great imagery...so pretty
blessed be
sirena |
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Re: He Wears a Mask
(User Rating: 1 )
by Alina on
Friday, 5th November 2004 @ 09:45:14 PM AEST
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a Message)
|
So tragic and truthful. This brought me to tears. This poem reminds me of my boyfriend and of myself. It takes a lot of guts to write what you wrote......and in the end say that you have a mask too. Wonderful!! Keep up the beautiful writes.
ALINA |
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Re: He Wears a Mask
(User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on
Friday, 5th November 2004 @ 10:14:55 PM AEST
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a Message)
|
A very strong masterpeice of wisdom.
Great writing.
luv, huggs, smiles,
emy |
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Re: He Wears a Mask
(User Rating: 1 )
by Bohemian_with_a_pen on
Friday, 5th November 2004 @ 11:12:27 PM AEST
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a Message)
|
| wow, i love this... awesome!!! |
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Re: He Wears a Mask
(User Rating: 1 )
by blowfish_jane on
Saturday, 6th November 2004 @ 01:25:37 AM AEST
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a Message)
|
This is a very sad write you have written and composed it so well, you did an awesome job on showing your emotions and feelings in this poem.
Hugs,
Jane |
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Re: He Wears a Mask
(User Rating: 1 )
by Tamara on
Saturday, 6th November 2004 @ 07:45:46 AM AEST
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a Message)
|
I cannot put into words how I felt when I read this exceptional piece of art, other than to say that I was deeply touched. You have a way with words that is inexplicable. You write with such raw emotion that I envy. If only all of us had the courage to write the truth in such a powerful way. I wish you and your troubled friend all the best and hope you live peacefully. Simple amazing.
Blessed be.
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