I stand there in the crowd
My identity hidden from the world like a sunken treasure.
We don our masks to hide our true intentions.
Some look for love,
Some look for revenge,
And others want to feel accepted.
Those of us with no real intention pretend to have one
Despite the lack of motivation or depth.
These are simply outliers that exploit the weak and benefit the strong.
I am one of those with no ulterior motives
Nor any experience or expectations.
All I do is meander about and make small talk
Like a wandering traveler on a lonely trail.
Someone walks up to me, asking a question no one dared to:
“Who are you?”
All eyes are on me, and the man is sweating.
He staggers off to recollect, and I try to take hold of my fear.
No one would dare to ask this again.
For at this masquerade ball
No one can show their true face to the public
Or their true intentions.
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