Poem: Masked

Victhur Ihuka April 22, 2015

mask1


Each day she wakes up to the rays of the sunlight.
She mutters in prayer hoping it won’t be her last,
maybe she’ll get another chance.

Then she picks up her mask and dusts it before

donning it — perfect smile, head help up high, sultry
confidence.

For a second, she wonders what lies behind all the
masked faces she passes each day.

Would she ever recognize those faces without

those masks worn?


She is not scared of the world, she’s just unsure of
the path she chose.

She’s not afraid to be counted as odd, she just

doesn’t want to disappoint everyone whose trust
she holds.

So she stays up all night wondering, “Am I good

enough? Am I as talented as people keep saying I
am?”
“Do I have what it takes to make the world stop and
listen?”

She’s so scared to spend her lifetime stuck in

silence — afraid to say something wrong.

Last Edited by:Abena Agyeman-Fisher Updated: March 25, 2016

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