Maskara
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxI-3ufJI-AIxLGRXso6Ccpz3yXGhhat-YaKb8MmeRE1vM8qdWl1vYQEfjHrhReS4gdcJoJuSVV3p211ZatAqSq7QkFnP7oH4veYm9n6Y-AzJ05ye9HtLzvxXDTpQvV-qPMfqUbDWnH1s/s640/Invisible-girl-sad-statue-1038x600-1038x576.jpg)
I've learned things
I don't need--
smile; cry.
Had I not shown a sign
of life, they'd not have learned
how to think of me.
I'd be a gradient of gray.
All dull things are dull
how I was yesterday, not worth comparing
a clean slate
a passing cloud
a faint shadow in dizzy light
without a face
what I could become
Poet's Statement: We demand a response, slapping a baby to wakefulness in order to determine life or its absence thereof. To some, to live is to have the freedom to establish oneself. But to others, this is just a way to build a more sophisticated prison.
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