He wears a mask everyday
The mask has now become a part of his face
Meticulously, he plans which one will fit in when and where
The mask is his sole respite and yet, his only friend
The mask knows whether to be happy and when to be sad
It knows just when to be good and when to lay a trap
The mask conceals his feelings and covers his flaws
Doesn’t it make him look perfect? More than he can ever be?
He says that his mask is only for others, only a comrade
What he cannot see is that the mask has made him forget himself.