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Poem
You saunter through the double doors
Head held high
Chest puffed out
Putting on airs
You think you’re so clever, so deceiving
Showing up baring the most ornate mask
But I see right through
The mask that you wear tonight
You think it will conceal
You think just tonight
In this hour
You can be somebody else
But you’re dancing with the Belle of the Ball
This is MY Masquerade
And this is the 147th event
You just don’t recognize me
Because I wear a different mask each time
Your mask is cheap material
Sequins missing, feathers askew 
Such feeble attempts
I smell your bravado
Putrid and reeking, stinking up the air
But I see right through
I’ve donned masks my whole life
That’s why I am the bearer of this sash
That you see around my neck 
“Strongest Person I Know”
But I allow no one to gaze under the mask
Sure I play the Belle oh so well
But if you all saw beneath
Saw WHY I’ve had to wear masks
You’d strip me of my title
You’d rip off my sash
Break the pearls from my neck
You’d run for the door tonight
Quicker than Cinderella at the stroke of midnight
That’s the beauty of a Masquerade
You can pretend to be something you’re not
When one guise becomes worn
When it loses its sparkle
It’s glamour and charm
That first catches your eye
Well it’s quite alright 
Because I have a treasure trove 
BURSTING with masks
Grab another and keep dancing
Twirling the night away
Never skipping a beat
But when the music finally comes to an end
When the door closes and the final guest departs
Empty wine glasses are seen scattered all around
The only sound is the echo of my heels
When the confetti lies lifeless on the floor
That’s when I remove my mask
Exhausted, worn and weary
When I gladly, almost desperately 
Take off my tattered sash 
And throw it beneath my feet
Because I’m not resilient and strong now
I feel weak, frail and reclusive in my realm
That’s when the tears start to brim
That’s when I wish someone else held the title
So stripped and naked
Alone to clean up the mess
Everyone else has left behind
But there’s no one to there to pick up the sash
Just me and the sound of my tears
Echoing as they hit the floor
Almost fearfully I pick up the sash
Dust off the confetti
Smooth out the wrinkles
Before placing it back around my neck
As I throw my shoulders back
Standing taller than ever
Wiping away tears that no one saw
I walk back to my trunk
My trunk of the most decorative
Ornate, obscuring masks
Finding another to wear
As I prepare for the next façade
The next Masquerade
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