...

Woe be to us, who wear masks well
Behind which we precise words tell
Each being carefully clipped and spelled
Leaving no doubt to what is meant

The mask is there to veil and hide
(Though maybe you might see my eyes)
Leave words and nothing else besides
Which words may or may not be lies

Weak we are, who behind masks hide
(“We”? Again weak, for I mean “me”)
Easier to hide our real sides
Wearing a mask itself a lie

Though “safe”, who wants to live like this?
Restricting you from ever be (-ing)
Remove the mask in front of “He”
Therein lies your path to be free

————

"There is a King, who is aware of every mask you put on."

~ Rumi.

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This poem took longer than usual because I decided to stick to just 8 syllables/line. No reason, just that the first line came unbidden to me in that form, and I wanted to keep the rest of the poem that way. I broke that "rule" just once - I guess that's one minor freedom I have.