I cover my face before stepping outside,
And don’t say a word, so my voice won’t be pried.
I try to blend in, and pray they can’t tell
– As if I’m a thief who escaped from her cell.
My old mask was blue.
I’m glad that it fell.
My new mask is pink.
I still need to hide.
From closet to stealth
Does no good to your health.
For people like me, this country looks bleak;
If others could see, they’d just see a freak.
My new mask is pink.
It does make me think.
My old mask was blue.
What else could I do?
One day they won’t tell just by looking at me,
But that doesn’t mean that I’m finally free.
My new mask will then be etched to my face:
They’ll give me a past that never took place.
My old mask was blue.
A terrible guise.
My new mask is pink.
The mask is in their eyes.
– Lady Scarecrow
This is the last poem I wanted to share here.
I’d like to thank you all for reading, and I sincerely appreciate all of your kind comments. I’m glad to know my poems resonated with so many people – that’s why I wanted to share them here, in the first place.
The only thing I still have to share is a short novel I wrote, that I mentioned in an earlier comment, but it’s still being reviewed. Who knows how long it will take. And of course, I know I’ll keep writing – but inspiration is fickle and hard to come by. I may come back with something else in the future.
Thanks again!
They’ll give me a past that never took place.
That resonates so much. Thank you so for sharing with us.
Very touching
