Pamela Plachno

My Masquerade. - Poem by Pamela Plachno

It’s funny how one can be
Hidden behind a mask.
Looking through the two eyeholes,
Camouflaged like a chameleon.
Hidden within a crowd.

Like the phantom and his opera,
Deformed, but not of his face.
But rather of his nature
Attitude, personality, and mind.
Corrupted in thought.
Hidden behind his mask.

I am the phantom.
The world is my opera.
Hidden behind the walls,
Leaving nothing, but glimpses of shadows.
Shame behind this mask.

But wrong I did not commit.
But sinful nature I did not choose.
But myself I cannot yield.

I am.
Just am.
Truth hidden behind the mask.

I can finally feel the fresh air.
True face I’m beginning to reveal.
Mask, almost falling.

But no.

I keep myself from exposure,
I hold onto the mask a bit longer,
Picking up the falling pieces,
Putting it back together.

Ma sk, reconstructing what I want to break.

Until then,
I keep this face.
What everyone’s familiar with.
What everyone’s used to.
What everyone expects of me.

I keep my false nature,
Until I found the day I free myself.

I keep hidden,
From everyone’s stare, disgust, and insults.

I hide,
Hidden behind the overused, weary mask.

I am sick of it.
I’m suffocating, seeking air.

I want out.
I want out.
I want out.

Until then,
I keep wearing my mask,
Since everyday’s
My masquerade.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about My Masquerade. by Pamela Plachno

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Thursday, December 3, 2009

[Report Error]