What is this place, that I find myself in
Full of masks with no end
Parading down the road, riding people's faces
High adn low, skinny and wide
Walking on, by and by
In a glance, masks I know
And we start for the door
Inside, the masks come off
Revealing friendly faces
Or freindly fakes, afraid to show
for reasons unknown
But on the masks,
lie spots of glass
Making a window to a friend
As my mask comes off, in the mirror I see
A face of white stares back at me
In shame and want, with need evermore
I lift my hand, to take the mask,
and find a bloodless face
Searching fingers find gripless whit,
despair at every slip
Turning to friends I find so dear
A touch of warm on ice rock mask
flows upon my cheek
A shard of white ice,
falls through time
And shatters upon reality's floor
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