Masques

From which cloth was your masque sewn?

Is it your neighbor’s or is it your own?

Did you ravage the coffers of the elite?

Or pilfer remnants of the weak?

Was it a gift from your father’s hand?

An obligation to fulfill another man’s plan?

Perhaps you put needle to thread

And manufactured your own instead.

Constructed of your own blood and tears

With seams hard-earned through the years?

Does it make you proud to wear?

Or only hide the shame you bear?

Does it give courage to thwart the villain’s reign,

And to serve and protect like Parker, Kent and Wayne?

Is it a reflection of your true self?

Or does it reflect the truth of someone else?

Perhaps the most important question to ask:

Why do we wear these silly little masques?