this mask i wear by terry moore
this mask i wear, you gave to me
one winter night beneath the trees,
it's black and blue enshrouds my life,
surrounds my eyes and blinds my sight.
this mask i wear pretends i'm here,
and hides me from the awful fear
that you might find the heart of me
and take that too, beneath the trees.
this mask i wear to hide the pain.
it's all i have to keep me sane.
i just fell down, i'm told to tell.
there are no words to stop this hell.
this mask i pray to god for why
he hates me so to watch me die
a little more with every night
this man comes in and rapes my life.
but little girls grow up, my friend
and learn the wicked ways of men.
and this mask i wear comes off the day
this mask i wear lays on your grave.
i think that this is one of the most powerful poems i have ever read. the sorrow behind it wounds the soul. it fills me with a sense of need to protect the person in the poem. to hold them close and try to make their pain go away.
this mask i wear, you gave to me
one winter night beneath the trees,
it's black and blue enshrouds my life,
surrounds my eyes and blinds my sight.
this mask i wear pretends i'm here,
and hides me from the awful fear
that you might find the heart of me
and take that too, beneath the trees.
this mask i wear to hide the pain.
it's all i have to keep me sane.
i just fell down, i'm told to tell.
there are no words to stop this hell.
this mask i pray to god for why
he hates me so to watch me die
a little more with every night
this man comes in and rapes my life.
but little girls grow up, my friend
and learn the wicked ways of men.
and this mask i wear comes off the day
this mask i wear lays on your grave.
i think that this is one of the most powerful poems i have ever read. the sorrow behind it wounds the soul. it fills me with a sense of need to protect the person in the poem. to hold them close and try to make their pain go away.