“The Mask Always a mask Held in the slim hand whitely Always she had a mask before her face – Truly the wrist Holding it lightly Fitted the task: Sometimes however Was there a shiver, Fingertip quiver, Ever so slightly – Holding the mask? For years and years and years I wondered But dared not ask And then – I blundered, Looked behind the mask, To find Nothing – She had no face. She had become Merely a hand Holding a mask With grace. – Author unknown.”
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