The Masquerade

Think of the people you meet every day
Think of the characters they try to portray
They hide what they’re thinking hide what they feel
In an age of hypocrisy nothing is real
Faces are just curtains of stone
That hides their true feelings till they’re alone
Who can you say that you really know?
You see only the façade they wish to show
Is it that they are weak or afraid?
They live out their lives in this masquerade
They are all clowns behind a painted smile
They tried to enchant, persuade or beguile
Faceless with no thoughts or ideals
Transparent reflections, nothing is real
They cling to their idols echo their lives
But it’s only a front, a place they can hide
Their own minds suppressed from birth to the grave
Enacting their lives in this masquerade
I look at myself am I the same
I try to find out if I play the game
Which side of my soul does everyone see?
The face that I show is it really me?
There’s no way of knowing if I play a part
Is my true self left in the dark?
Am I for real, or what I am made?
Or am I just part of this masquerade?