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Masked.
Illusion
is a strong word to define someone’s image, as far as being stable
on
Senses. Reactions. Moods. Feelings. Slipping into a new skin: fly or hit
the
rocks beneath, waiting to scrape & scuff at what you’ve acquainted to
outside
but hasn’t taken mold to your withered and abraded spirit, soon to be
Ashes
begging to be piece backed together, only to design a misconception
of
the mask I paint for myself each and every day of my life. Reaching into
my
depths that hold the shades and hues of what makes up my internal
entity.
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The inspiration for this poem came from Ellen Hopkin's book Tricks, which really conveyed the message to me that looks are deceiving and cannot be trusted.