My Happy Mask Poem by Timothy minchew

I used to have a happy mask.
It really served me well.
When I was sad and out of touch,
I'd put it on and you could never tell.

It's wide toothed grin and blood shot eyes,
Tried it's best to hold the lies.
But when people began to sense a fake,
The mask began to fold and break.

The pieces fell like broken glass,
Unveiling the true me at last.
Now you all can really see,
That without the mask I cease to be.