The Mask I Wear
Anxiety is a curse its a horrible illness to live with

The Mask I Wear
I wear a mask to greet the day,
A painted smile in shades of grey,
Its laughter dances, light, and thin—
A shield that hides the storm within.
Behind the eyes, a restless sea,
Whispers of “What will they see?”
The fear that clings, the doubts that creep,
The secrets buried, the ones I keep.
The mask fits snug, a perfect guise,
A cloak to shroud my weary cries,
I tell the world I’m fine, all right—
But battles rage in dead of night.
The pressure mounts, a heavy thread,
A thousand words I never said,
A thousand dreams that slip and fade,
In silent shadows, long displayed.
Oh, if you knew what hid beneath,
The trembling hands, the aching teeth,
Would you see me? Would you stay?
Or would you look the other way?
This mask is worn with artful ease,
A symphony of misled pleas,
But sometimes, in a moment’s break—
The cracks reveal the heart I fake.
Will I ever drop the guise,
Let you see my shattered eyes?
Or will I linger, mask in place,
An endless dance in a borrowed space?
I wear this mask, it keeps me safe—
A fragile smile in a fleeting place.
But will I learn to breathe, to share—
The soul beneath the mask I wear?
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️



Comments (2)
Fine. It is well said.
Good work. I think at times we all wear a mask at times to do what we need to do.