the masquerade

it's a masquerade,
a ball,
a dance in suits
and gowns where no one
knows
who anyone really is.
who's behind
the smile, the frown,
the shy
mask worn as if it's
a true self.
even the priest is
wearing one,
hiding behind
his holy personae
as he sprinkles holy water
upon the crowd.
his secrets and sins
are just as
bad as ours, but for
him, where is there
to turn, when can he pull
the mask off
and say this is who
I really am.