The Mask Poem by Robert Westlake
The Mask
The mask controls what I am. Night never
Ends. Sun does not rise. Why must the facade
Control what is? I see many more by
Me, around me. I cannot show who I
Am or who I want to be in the field
Of battle, of living. A box of glass
Surrounds the flower, causes it to look
Like a cactus, causes it to do what
It does not want, it does not need, It wants
The box to leave it now, to depart now.
It needs the sun to rise, the night to end.
(February 4,2012)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/3/2024 5:40:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Overcrowded city life is dehumanizing. For all its lack of gloss, countryliving lets your soul breathe . Your poem took me in to your experience and made me look at my life. Everything I have striven for has been always a little out of reach and trying to attain a more a secure sophisticated lifestyle was only done through leaving behind relationships and cutting connection with a more natural flowing life to which I need to return. For me your poem describes an experience from a world that denies its own cruelty. Beware of the belief that financial success is the solution it is a false " god" and it may never happen. Very effective poem expressing your experience. Thank you