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The masks we wear
the world rushes by... a flood of empty faces fill my veiw... but who am I? who am I to call the faes empty when i myself wear a mask of darkness, a mask of logic, a mask of deciete, i wear emotions that i do not own, reactions that come so natural but feel so cold and mechanical... when will the mask I wear become real... become a true beacon of the face it hides. when will I emerge from my chains and show the world what i hide... when will my mask move, when it smiles, when it cries... iawait the day when it speaks to me and says; "I am you, you can be me... i have cried your tears and i have screamed for your pain... now accept me" but still it remains, unmoving, unalive.
this is the mask i wear.
this is the mask WE ALL wear...
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