The Masked Magician

Once Upon a Time,

There was a boy his name was Me.

His mother would rant and rave over how amazing his future would be.

He didn’t understand why she was so proud

and walked around town declaring It out loud.

He wasn’t as excited as she

because he didn’t feel like anything she said was like Me.

Then, one fateful day a magical show came into town

showcasing a man in a mask as the caravan pitched their tent in the ground.

Everyone gathered as the man in the mask opened with glee.

He was different and confident from what Me could see.

The mask the magician wore was colored with flair.

First Purple, Red, Yellow and a feather to point the sign of an ignorant hare.

The magician could disappear and reappear.

He could sing a little song that echoed for all to hear.

He told everyone what a joy it was to be him

and that a world without a mask was dark without glim.

He spun a tall tale

of how he lived a life under a sail.

He spoke of monsters he defeated

and all the nobles he treated.

He spoke of his ability to do everything and all …

as long as he had his mask his life would remain tall.

And so the man in the mask began to sell his collection of masks to the people.

They believed his story so much they built him a steeple.

How lofty he seemed as he danced and sang.

We all forgot he even had a name.

Me begged his mother to purchase him a mask

and to allow him to finally be Me at last.

With tears in his eyes he begged her for it dearly

and eventually she consented upset at the world, clearly.

He ran to the Masked Magician jumping for joy to make his purchase ….

when he noticed the Masked Magician was packing to leave for the circus.

Take me with you oh great Masked Magician!

Your story has been worth ten fold the skills of any physician!

I am growing old and weary

and my face hurts under this mask of cheery.

Teach me your ways great Masked Magician!

I will continue your Masked tradition!

Everyone wears masks and lives as you do

chasing the what and who do.

The Masked Magician looked at the boy and unveiled an extravagant ploy.

This mask was not once my life but a toy.

I was mocked for who I was ….

and my life lacked any traces of loves.

I hated my face

and so a master came into town to remove all trace…

Traces of who they said I was

and any grievances over loves.

I performed through every town

as I had replaced my Master the Clown.

I felt as though I could perform forever….

until I realized that I would never…

Remember my name or if reality was really as lame…

Then he asked the boy for help as he lifted his mask

instructing that this would be his first task

As the boy unmasked his new master

he unveiled a formless plaster.

All my time was spent designing this mask and the masks of others.

So passionately I claim that people are more than their mothers.

Me before it is too late

understand what has been prepared on your plate.

You have a loving mother who tells You your name

instead of some silly story of a false claim.

You are everything You could be already.

Now go home and hug your mother dearly.

For now You will be You

and there will be nothing You can’t do.

For to be the new master is to forget

and to waste time on a life that will never beget.

I envy the audience as they praise my performance…

I thought it would give my life a sense of adventure and romance…

Soon even You will forget your name

and believe the words that You claim.

And soon the world will be filled with masked people

leaving our truest forms ever so feeble.

The boy didn’t want to believe his new master

and decided to forget the formless plaster.

He went home and told his mom

she sat in a chair trying to remain calm.

She loved him very much

even if this meant they would lose touch.

And so he left on a new journey

selling masks as a gurney.

He preached healing

as his pockets filled with stealing.

Then as he reached his master’s ceiling

he began feeling.

He had worn his mask for so long

something was disturbingly wrong.

Then with fear in his eyes he lifted his mask

to check and see if he was still Me at last.

Who are You? Me?

You was not the name his mother intended him to be.

And he realized just like his master

he had become a formless plaster.

He had wasted time creating an extravagant mask

to the point he had lost his name at last.

So he traveled back home

for he was too tired to roam.

As he walked into town

a sea of masks was all that was found.

He couldn’t find his mother and feared she had made his master’s mistake.

He ran home hoping this was not the end of his fate.

And there she was sitting in her chair

with grey painted all in her hair.

She was blind with age

and had lost her sage.

When he made himself known she shouted his name.

Saying, “Me! I am so happy you came!”

I laid down my mask unafraid of what her reaction might be

for she was blind You see?

I knelt down before her as she spoke of what I meant to her

And how loved I have always been regardless of even murder.

That no matter what I was the source in which she marveled and sang.

I was her world and yet I never rang.

She said my name over and over as her hands began to touch my face.

There in her presence was all my formless disgrace.

But a miracle happened, and my face began to form.

She began to smile as she remembered every part of my norm.

I turned to look in the mirror and cried as I saw.

All this time she was right after all.

I cried because I wanted to be Me

but You had become everything to Me.

I am not what this world claims I am

but what my creator knows I am.

You was special and fantastic.

And yet made out of plastic.

You was talented and beautiful.

And yet unhappy and miserable.

You was loved and idolized.

And yet brutally criticized.

She who knew Me so thoroughly

Even though others would speak of me morbidly

She needed not her vision

To see the boy that was created for a mission

She judged not my journey

For I would eventually come home late or even early.

She told Me who I was created to be.

Nothing other than Me.

I don’t need a mask to become something great.

For I had the ability to make…

Make a journey to clarity

Where I would find solace merrily.

And so I spent the rest of my days living amongst the masked tribe

revealing that living as Me was not determined by You nor someone’s bribe.

And that if you wish to truly live through a series of masks and what they say You are.

You will always end up traveling way too far.

….From the destination of who Me always are!