​
I found a mask when I was small,
My grandpa said, “Don’t trust it at all.
Son, that thing is not a toy,
It’s worn by men who’ve lost their joy.
They use it when they’re filled with fear,
To hide the pain that lingers near.
Some are found and some are made,
Some are worn till truth decays.”
I looked at him and asked him why,
“How can a mask make someone lie?
It looks like something strong and bright,
Like it could help you through the night.”
“That’s right,” he said, “but listen close,
This is the one I wore… was the one I chose.
I made it long before your time,
To hide the pain that once was mine.”
“My mother died when I was young,
My family’s thread came all undone.
My father drank, his rage was loud,
Till darkness followed like a cloud.
Before I turned the age of ten,
My home was gone, lost to his sin.
My father took my mother’s life,
Then prison took him from my sight.”
“So there I stood, so small and alone,
No voice, no hand, no place called home.
And in that silence, cold and deep,
I made a mask to help me sleep.”
“It wore a smile so bright, so fake,
A face no sorrow could ever break.
It hid my tears, it hid my pain,
It showed the world I was alive again.”
“But masks don’t heal what they conceal,
They only hide what we won’t feel.
I wore it long, too long to see
It didn’t hide the world, but hid me."
“I forgot the boy I used to be,
Forgot what lived inside of me.
It told me nothing was ever wrong,
So I stayed broken far too long.”
Then Grandpa paused and looked at me,
His eyes were heavy, sad, and deep.
“I met your grandma down the line,
And her loss was great and hurt mine.”
“She had a mask, but made of hate,
From pain her life could not separate.
She swore the world would always bleed,
For every man and every deed.”
“But one day she saw a boy,
Beaten, broken, and some bad man's toy.
To save the boy, she needed free from her pain
No hate could stay, no rage could last,
She tore her mask off from the past.”
“And something in her heart was freed,
A barren soul began to seed.
Where hate had lived, love took its place,
And softness came into her face.”
As she spoke, and told me her fate
I felt my past hurt begin to break,
The life I’d lived was my mistake.
The mask I wore so long, so tight,
Had stolen all my inner light.
It didn’t own me. I was whole.
It couldn’t cage my heart or soul.
The pain was real, but so was I,
And I could choose to live, not hide.
So I took my mask and let it fall,
No longer needing it at all.
I cried for all I couldn’t say,
Then slowly watched it fade away.
Grandpa just stood there, calm and still,
Like he had known this moment well.
No words were needed, none were told,
Just truth, living was mine to hold.
“I don’t need it,” I said once more,
“I’ll leave it lying on the floor.
Life will hurt, but I will stand,
With no more mask in hand.”
“You learned from Grandma,
Now I’ve learned from you,
from your pain, from her love,
From broken things we rise above.
Even scared, I’ll walk ahead—
With open heart, not one half-dead.”
I held his hand, he held mine,
We walked away through fading light,
Through summer air and quiet night.
The mask remained where it was cast—
A shadow of a heavier past,
I didn't need it and neither did he,
I dropped it for him, both finally free.