Standing in the mirror is a face i do not know. Who are you, this face smiling back at me. At this point where i could die and feel so low. Who are you, this face smiling for the world to see. I dont recognize this person in my reflection. This person seems to have no worries, thats as far as i can tell. The way he grins and carries on is all for my protection. My mask its sad that i know this very well. THIS FAKE, THIS IMPOSTER, THIS MASK OF THE UNREAL. He looks back and says, "Isnt this what you asked?" And i did, this way noone can pry into how i feel. The turmoil and tears build up behind the mask. The Vulnerable get walked on, and looked on as weak. If i wasnt masked how would you see me. Would you lift me up and help me to my feet. Or would you kick me into the dirt and leave me.