It can’t be helped; it seems accursed;
I can’t not be this me.
As such, it’s like to die of thirst
Upon the salty sea.

I roam around and make mistakes,
Ignoring all the signs.
A thousand times, an object breaks
Or I forget my lines.

I wish my life were not like this;
It seems so hard to bear,
And yet a life of perfect bliss
Awaits those who’re aware.

And that’s the “secret” and life’s “task”:
To see the face behind the mask.

Photo by Matt Antonioli on Unsplash

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