Masks
Do I dare peep behind, all the masks I wear. Do I dare look in the mirror, when my eyes might look back at me, bare ? Will I abhor what I see, or fall in love with the real me... Would I want my mask collection back ? Or will I bury them under the peepal tree ? I know not and hence I ask, these questions that may surprise many. But if I know will I cease to ask For thoughts and questions come a hundred a penny. The masks serve their purpose well, and hide me from the world and myself. But what life is this, if I can't see what I was intended to be. So I have flung them away they lie shattered, broken like the lies I wore. But the sad part is, even when it's off, people think the face I have on, is a mask.