A mask in a crowd of painted faces

[sangnick]

My mask is all I have
To keep me separated from the world
It is a happy one for all to see
But that is all they see
My friends I have see the mask and misinterpret it as happy
But I see it as a disguise
I look in the mirror and what do I see
I do not know who you are I say to myself
Who am I but a painted face?
For all to see
For all to laugh at
For all to mock and be the butt of all jokes
I get pushed away
Pushed to the back of every1's mind and forgotten
I am there but no one sees me
I am speak but no one hears me
I don't want to be alone but I am
I just wish that someone could see through that mask and ask
Is it you or the mask I see?
What is going on behind the mask?
What is he thinking/feeling?
Nothing?
Something?
Anything at all?
What if that mask were to shatter and fall?
Would the person be as one with the mask?
Does he portray the mask or does it portray him?
But no one can see through the mask
All they see is what they want to see not what they really see
I am but a mask in a crowd of painted faces and there is where I will stay.

[Debrasue]

sangnick,
That was beautiful & insightful! I really did love it.........would you like to expound a little or discuss? Just me being curious! I love the theme of masks & duality of one's nature. (Phantom of the Opera & Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde). Thank you for sharing your poem, Debrasue

[sangnick]

yeah i was just upset and feeling left out of my group of friends... so i wrote this.. thanks for the comment i really diden't think that any one would like it

[ktd222]

My initial reaction is the speaker generalizes an individual experience, mixing in assumptions, self-centeredness, and a condescending tone to boot. Why don’t you come out and talk? We can only assume and associate things with what we know. To say that others “misinterpret” you is to assume you know what they are thinking, and that would be misguided by you. So by the end of your poem, what happens to me is the speaker’s “misinterpreting”. That’s a nice way to end the poem.

[SarahIzumi]

RagDoll



I'm a useless Ragdoll

Patched

Scarred

and Sown

Not pretty but hurt just to show how I've grown.

In my patched gown I wait.

I wait for my skeleton Dear to save me from my one true fear.

I wait for him to save me from dying and keep me from crying.

Only a Useless RagDoll is use to the Tears.



Heres my poem i hope u like it