Masquerade

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Her façade of perfection slips,
the painted smile cracking.
She can no longer hide,
nor prolong her Script.

Broken in the shadows,
She became her mask.
The lies were her truth,
She forgot herself long ago.


A short entry for this prompt from the lovely Jaqueline Oby-Ikocha 🙂 Day 9 of the Writing 101 Poetry course and we had to write about something pertaining to Camouflage.

For today’s poem, take inspiration from camouflage — you may apply it in any way you like, whether you write about visual or social dissimulation, or focus on the way we hide our myriad emotions, actions, and reactions. What would be your ultimate smokescreen, concealment, or mask?

I took this from my own personal experiences and strangely enough, for how personal this is, I kept rewriting this poem. I think even now, it is difficult even now for my brain to process how to explain the pressures of being a sort of “trophy kid” to your family. I did as much as I let myself do, maybe this will be edited in the future when I can look at this in a better perspective. Thank you all for reading!

[Image via tumblr]

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About C.G

I write what I'm passionate about. I believe in the therapeutic process of writing because it keeps me sane and motivated. This blog is made up of poems, narratives and other musings.
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14 Responses to Masquerade

  1. Love this… it’s simple yet says so much… 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sheridan Johnson says:

    I actually really love this poem, and the image! Great job! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. She has hidden behind her camouflaging mask for so long that the illusion takes on realism. Lovely, strong take on the poem and an apt photo to go with it too. Good job.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. clcouch123 says:

    Camouflage as masquerade, an experience requiring our authentic selves to be hid behind something materially attractive. Parents do impose this kind of artificial face, based on their expectations. Usually this means that eventually everyone will be frustrated, since the genuine self will eventually have its way. Sometimes explosively, sometimes gradually–with cracks in the mask’s smile, as you say, appearing and starting to split through. The ultimate crisis–again, as you say–is not knowing anything about the real self, especially when the false self falls away. Here, you give so much to think and feel about. Thank you!

    Liked by 1 person

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