Mask Poems

Happiness

We tend to blur the lines between purpose and lies
as we break our spines reaching for our broken prize.

We force a smile while we scream inside
throwing up bile as we choke on our pride.

We grin as we stand before the mirror
learning to rebrand our shakey interior

Laughing we return to the idea of being satisfied
while we

The Face Behind The Mask

What hides behind your painted smile?
A gentle soul, or a storm in waiting?
Do your eyes speak truth,
or are they windows with curtains drawn?

When you laugh among the crowd,
is it joy that dances,
or loneliness in disguise?

How many words are spoken
not from the heart,
but from a script carefully written?
How many hands are shaken
while the mind whispers something

In the dance of conscious life, death wears its silver mask

In the dance of conscious life, death wears its silver mask,
And beneath the veil of darkness, a hidden life flickers softly,
If we closed our eyes, blindness would be a sublime gift,
We'd see how we fight for subtle, ephemeral illusions.
In the silence that embraces us, reality unveils in the dark,
A vast and profound universe, beyond our

The Benin Mask

Ivory gleams like moonlight carved into memory—
the face of Idia, Iyoba, Queen Mother of Benin,
whose spirit breathes through the silence of exile.

In 1897, they came with fire and iron,
tore open the palace of the Oba,
looted not only gold and bronze,
but the heartbeat of a people.
And still, the mask sits—
caged in London, imprisoned in New York,
while

MASK OF MANY FACES

Who am I, anyway?

I wear the mask of many faces.
I speak, read, and understand—
sometimes with words,
sometimes telepathy.
My voice changes with my face.

I just need a witness.

Attuned to me, I become every language you know,
but I do not know the geography of my own soul.

I dare not look at my face.
It is a drama mask—
sometimes surgical,

The Mask

Naked, in your hatred, you daily bask

Your face contorts into a feral mask

As for the good friend that I've known so long

Alas, for now, all humanity gone

Mask

Mask by Adejola Joseph
Mask
Where does it come from?
What?
Delusive rationality!
Are we out of mind?
Senses drained and dried?
No!
What do you capitalized on?
Neutral ambition?
Stop writhing in pain
It halts not the rod
Good ambition...lofty ideas
But...sees no sun
Because it's all masked!
It's all choked...
Brutally masked;
Dreamer ponders
Where do we go?
So much confusionist now on this solidity and compound mass!
Pitifully roaming the streets and

The Mask of Her Love

She does not love you.
She loves what you give her—
And when that gift fades, so too does her affection.
The modern man, deluded by poets and preachers,
Believes that love is salvation.
No—
Love is slavery wrapped in perfume.

She smiles when you provide,
Cries when you delay,
Withholds warmth to bend your spine.
And you—
Grateful for her cold embrace—
Call it passion.
You sign

We Wear The Mask

We Wear The Mask by Paul Laurence Dunbar



After poem by Olabosoye Wemimo Olaoluwa 


Love of our land's labour should make us proud;
The efforts, time, and energy put through...
Well enough to place our pride clear as vowed.

But we wear the mask of pain we don't plowed,
When slavery is to labourers in blue...
Love of our land's labour

The Mask of Lilith

She comes not with love,
but with the scent of forgotten gods—
lilac laced with sorrow,
laughter hiding the abyss.

Her eyes do not see you,
they scan—
for cracks in your crown,
for wounds you wear like medals.

She knows you long to be seen—
so she becomes the mirror.
Reflects your power,
until it is hers.

She offers no war,
only surrender.
No blade,
only velvet ropes of

Deep Down

When I see the darkness, I see the Qliphoth,  
Each shadow mirrors the fire I’ve crossed.  
A soul forged where mercy is lost—  
I rise from Hell with no fear of cost.  

They say I walk with devils and flame,  
That I’ve chosen a path of whispers and shame. 

Boys Don’t Break -But I Did-

They say boys don’t cry.
They say it like a promise.
Like strength is stitched in our skin at birth
and weakness is something
you have to unzip your chest to find.

I was eight
when I learned that sadness had a gender.
That girls get tissues,
and boys get told to “tough it out.”

That scraped knees get band-aids,
but broken hearts?
Those just get

Black without a mask

Black without a mask

What would it look like to be black without a mask?
Would it look like freedom?
Or would they laugh?
At our attempt to be ourselves
To feel like we can tell the world
That we are fighting back
That we are tired of being attacked
That we are human and you should respect that
Maybe it would feel like

THE MASK OF VIRTUES

I give love —
to my enemies,
not for their salvation,
but to tame the chasms within me.

The angel of death sneers
when vanity bewitches me
and whispers that its intoxications are eternal.

I am sequestered,
in a body scarred
by the blades of a tragic fate,
etched in letters of steel on the parchment of chaos.

I walk —
heart burdened by hereditary sorrows,
the poisoned

Take of the Mask

Take Off The Mask 
Running from pain? 
Hiding from a ruthless society? 
What have we become? 
An outcast 
Always offended 
Take of the mask 
Be your own man 
Set yourself free 
Don’t be molded by hate 
Don’t follow the crowd 
Walk on your own road 
Just be you 
Don’t need many  friends 
You can’t

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