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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1461784
About my mom and i
Who have I become this person in disguise?
No one can see pase my happy facade,
see that inside im dieing.

What did I do to deserve this?
Nothing but your consecrated servant,
to your every monotonous want and standard.

A masquerade you play to the world,
but to me the masks are removed.
I remember when tea parties were,
held and stories were told.
Now profanity is yelled,
and tears flow.

A little bit more I die inside.

I remeber when I would run aroudn and you would,
always watch me to make sure I was ok.
Now im so pellucid,
you don't even realize when im crying from,
two feet away.

I want to leave this masquerade,
and run away from it all.
Trepidation fills me as I dance this dance,
for I know if I don't leave this masquerade ball,
this will surely be ,
the last dance I will ever dance.
© Copyright 2008 J.R. Sutton (broadway_08 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1461784-Masquerade-Ball