My Mask

Many places in this city

Sell masks, the Venetian

Kind with feathers and

Glitter and bright colours

And black and white.

I want to buy a mask

But none of the masks

Sold at many places

In this city are right,

None are my mask,

None are perfect,

None are just for me.

Perhaps I should make

My own mask from feathers

And glitter and bright colours

And black and white

And wear it until it becomes

My mask when I look

In the mirror.

Perhaps if I look in the mirror

Now I shall see my mask,

Maybe I’m wearing it,

Maybe I’ve been wearing

My mask so long I’ve forgotten

That I ever put it on.

I made it myself.

Do you like it?

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