i sometimes wonder who decides
when it is time to cry.

we've all been taught to wear our masks.
never letting them fall away from our faces.
never letting the light of day
slip behind the iron masks.
never exposing our pain.

the iron mask may protect us from the storm.
but what happens when the
random raindrops slip inside and
turn our emotions, which
we have strived to master,
into
nothing
more
than rust?

maybe someday when all is safe,
our masks will fall away from our faces
and crumble to the ground in a
cloud of dust.
the tears will be allowed to fall
freely.
exposing who we really are.

-- maya