The City Of Hidden Faces

The city awakens behind painted masks,
streets alive with voices.
Footsteps tap over quiet secrets,
and no one sees the skin beneath the disguise.
Each mask holds a story,
a hidden life waiting to be noticed.

I turn to my right, and I see a mask painted bright yellow,
cheeks permanently lifted, glittering eyes hiding tremors
beneath.
Laughing at the street’s nonsense,
while inside, fear tightens like a coiled spring.
To my left, I observe a mask of cracked charcoal,
veins of silver where tears might run.
Every smile is brittle, carefully measured,
every word weighed in the currency of absence.
At the gym, I see a man with uneven lines cut into red cloth,
eyebrows arched in fury.
His hands shake with restrained fire,
voice low but edged with a storm threatening to break free.
As I walk past the coffee shop, I see a woman,
Her mask transparent, fogged over,
barely showing the shape of the mouth.
Her eyes wander like a lost child
through crowded streets that ignore them.
Towards the elementary school, I spot a teacher,
they wear a mask of soft pastels, faded edges,
like photographs pressed in forgotten books.
Breathes in echoes of laughter long gone,
touching memories like delicate lace.
A child runs by, his face shimmering green and gold,
eyes bright with unspent dreams.
Steps falter sometimes,
but the heart keeps plotting paths through the dark.
A convicted man enters the jail,
his face brown and messy, hiding scars and secrets,
shoulders hunch beneath imagined eyes.
Even when the world looks away,
he feels the weight of invisible judgment.
A young couple strolls by,
their faces soft rose, carved with tiny hearts,
smiles that reach for others but never quite meet

By: Emi A

Emi is a student and aspiring writer with interests in literature, medicine, and community impact. Her poetry often focuses on resilience, experiences, and the stories that connect people across generations.