The Masks We Wear

I smile, and no one sees the strain —

They call it joy; I call it pain.

This painted face, so calm, so bright,

Was stitched together overnight.

...

I laugh at jokes I do not feel.

I say I’m fine—the safest deal.

It’s easier to fake the glow

Then let the darker shadows show.

...

There’s power in pretending, too —

To seem composed when I’m not through.

To wear a strength I do not own,

So I don’t have to break alone.

...

But sometimes, late when no one’s near,

The mask slips off, and there’s the fear.

The messy self I try to hide,

The child who still hurts deep inside.

...

Would you still love the parts I cage?

The rage, the ache, the ancient page?

The secrets stitched into my skin,

The battles lost—I never win?

...

We all wear masks; it’s how we cope.

A fragile lie, a thread of hope.

Not meant to fool, but to survive,

To keep our softer selves alive.

...

So if I smile, don’t look away.

It’s not deceit; it’s how I stay.

And maybe, if you’re wearing one too…

I’ll see the real beneath in you.

This poem was written in response to the “Masks We Wear” prompt for the Vocal+ Fall Poetry Series, exploring the hidden selves, quiet disguises, and unspoken truths that live beneath the surface.

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