You are one of those masquerade men
who hide behind their own faces with
glittered feathers and sunglasses.
Attracting people with false whim and
humor so phony I can’t help but laugh.
You are really something, you know that—
Something terrible and disgusting.
From the bottom of my heart I knew you,
your mask, and was touched by your gloves,
as we twirled around on the marble tiles,
it hid your identity from me
This falsified my testifies of you
And for this I will no longer dance with you
The evening gala isn’t clear under the moon
And though the clouds are gone there are shadows
In my eyes as I look at you, sneaking behind the table
Cutting yourself, cutting the shield from yourself
I used to cry behind my feathered eyes for you
With the veil now taken off my eyes are clear
All I can see is you
(I know I need a stronger ending and I plan to fix this. Basically it's about he naiveness I felt towards the person as we both lied to each anotehr through masks -- our made up happy selves.... I like this poem, dont' you? I think it's actually one of the best things I've written in a long time. -- Elizabeth)

