THE MASK

Sometimes
I see a face
Presented to me
By an unknown
The mask is mine.

In a dream I chose the colors
I don’t remember the decisions
I don’t remember the time of change

Sometimes
I awake
And I find I’m still wearing the
Wrong Expression
And I don’t know where to find
A Cloth to wipe away the look.

So I bear my mask…
A badge of false bravado
The hand that painted with loving
Knew not that the camuflage would
Fade in time.
It knew not what else to do to live.

Sometimes
We see a face…
And have become to expressionless
We let the colors harden in place
And live behind the masks of time.

Forgetting that eash presentation
Can be given it’s own life or simply wiped

Away…
T.A.Chamot 3/27/92

THE MASK

tachamot

Effort, United States

  • Artist
    Notes

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life mask

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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