Goddess of Masks

July 15, 2008
By Morgan Million, West Lebanon, IN

A sea of masks,
Each as unique as the one before it.
What did her true face look like?
It had been lost long ago,
When her heart had been carelessly shattered.

No one knew the true her.
Everyone knew little bits and pieces;
But the whole person was split,
Split into countless shards.
Thus she couldn’t tell what part of her was with who.

Masks, masks.
They haunted her dreams.
Her parents thought they knew her,
As did her friends.
Parents didn’t support one side of her;
Friends encouraged the lacking side.

The pressure increased,
Put on by parents, siblings, grandparents,
Friends, neighbors, strangers, teachers.
They all saw a prodigy.
Yet all she saw was a single person,
A person who had lost her true identity
Trying to make everyone happy.

Who was she?
Did she love, truly, madly, deeply?
What did he know about her,
Or the gloating queen of the school?
Had they ever lived her life?
Did God even understand her?
He had lived in times
When society didn’t look at your clothes,
Your face, your body, your hair, your life.
No one in God’s time had owned things like now,
Where your wealth was scrutinized harshly.

Didn’t anyone realize what pain she was enduring,
Trying to keep countless people happy?
The stress of it all was wearing her out,
Turning her into a fragile version of her former, stronger self.

Who truly knew the goddess of masks?

The author's comments:
No one knows the true me. The girl in the poem is me, and I am her. The knowledge that no one knew me, truly, inspired me to write this.

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