The Hidden
Scott Yang
Their gleaming faces of plastic Smiles fashioned with a mold, Expressions coloured with paint And their love and welcome hollow.
They come and greet and share
With the mask and make-up they wear, But only when blinded
Can one join and live their mask.
They feel only of cold
And resonate with no vibrance,
Only behind their mask
They hide their poisoning despair.
In cries and moans they sing but inaudible to the world, And in tears alone they stare At a darkened world in mold.
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