Faces in the cupboard

All neatly on a shelf
Swathed in bubble wrap
Delicate but necessary
I keep my faces
In the cupboard

Mask on mask off
No choice no ask
The grim, the stoic
Materialise in time
From the cupboard

There’s one hidden
Gathering neglectful dust
As fresh as the day
The masks were stored
In the cupboard

It hides from use
It lurks away
It refuses to emerge
And cloak the face
From the cupboard

The carefree visage
Will have to stay
Hidden, forgotten, away
Not to be worn
Remain in the cupboard.

All neatly stored
On the bottom shelf
Ready & waiting
For eventual use
In the cupboard


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