Robert Westlake

The Mask

The mask controls what I am. Night never
Ends. Sun does not rise. Why must the facade
Control what is? I see many more by
Me, around me. I cannot show who I
Am or who I want to be in the field
Of battle, of living. A box of glass
Surrounds the flower, causes it to look
Like a cactus, causes it to do what
It does not want, it does not need, It wants

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