Is it Mardi Gras, Halloween or Harlequin
or the mask her face is in?
No one except for she can tell
what lies beneath her skin.
She takes her mask off in the night
but never in the day.
She wears the face of every one
that sees her in the day.
The one whose heart is fortified
by beauty and by strength.
The one whose heart is weakened
by loveless days at length.
The one who walks with confidence
and never appears weak.
The one who always looks calm
and peaceful when she speaks.
But, be on guard when day is done
for all of this does change.
She becomes again a simple poet
and the mask she does exchange
for everything she really is
and everything she's not.
The face that wears the mask each day
is really not the face she's got.
Edwina Reizer's Other Poems
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