From Behind The Mask


From behind the mask
The tears screaming fall
And sear their brand
Into her pockmarked soul.
From behind the mask
The wails despairing keen
And thread their yoke
Into his whip-scarred mind.
From behind the mask
The edicts quaking streak
And dig their talons
Into her frozen heart.
The mask is only as strong
As its binding cord,
Parted by truth
Dropped into the mud
Slung by hate,
Left behind by friend-caught hands
Lifting, unveiling
The world, wider than beyond eye-hole’s portrayal
The mask obscures both ways.

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
This entry was posted in For EW&R, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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