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The mask

Posted by Simon Parke, 14 April 2017, 5.48am

It was a walk to the cross, a stony journey

Soldier’s aggression, one gets used to the brutality of life

One has to survive, though I signed a petition for his release

And on arrival there, and for whatever reason, I decided to take off my mask

Just for a moment, I don’t think anyone was looking

It was something worn for a long time, habits form, do they not?

And it’s a brutal world, one must hide, I mean everyone does it

Though the air was cool on my face, breeze on my skin

And deep tears freed to flow, rivers from some hidden spring

Because I don’t know why people die, why this space is left, this hole,

And I’m left on earth without them

Though it’s a brutal world, I know all that, and one has to survive

Appear the strong and the caring, the wise and the free, this is my mask

Though I can hardly breathe beneath it, scarcely inhale at all

And more baffled than free, more broken than wise

And strong as a stick in the deadening desert sun smashed by a soldier’s boot

One must hide, I mean everyone does it

Though I can’t now find my mask

 
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