I have a mask collection which I keep in my cellar,
Which I wear at different times depending on the moment,
I have a collection of masks the biggest ever seen,
They cover the little person that I am deep within.
The black mask covers my innocence,
My apparent fear of the violence that surrounds me,
My subordination to the insolents around me,
My fear hidden in the silence that I’m dumbfounded in.
The white mask covers my guilt,
Things done that I’m not proud of yet necessary for continued existance,
In satisfaction of my endless needs and justification of my bloody deeds,
Things that stemmed because I sowed a bad seed.
The yellow mask covers my sorrow,
My fear that grows due to an unstable tomorrow,
Depression at the passing of a loved enemy or a hated friend,
Or just plain sadness that is seen because my joy is at its end.
The blue mask covers my joy,
A well placed frown when deep down inside I might be smiling,
Though my eyes might be crying my soul will be flying,
You may say be nice but really I’m trying.
The purple mask covers my poverty,
Buying a ten thousand shilling phone to load with five shilling airtime,
Having a Ralph Lauren wallet but only thing in it is spare change,
Getting chains for my neck at the risk of shackles for my ankles
I have a mask collection way back at home,
And you will never find me without one on,
So please understand why the mask you have to see,
Its simply because I’m not sure you would like the real me.