THE MASK
a poem by Reginold Ajay Jacob, India
What a perfect mask you wear?
In front of the boss, you are so different,
Out of her presence very ineffective as I find,
How do you manage this dualism?
My soul no rest can find,
You create an illusion,
That’s perfect every time,
Yet fruits are lacking every time.
Will thy spell ever last,
Will the holder of authority ever wake?
Will the spell ever break?
If only this spell could break.
NOTE:- I wrote this poem observing how people behave in front of their boss. Out of the boss sight, they are just different.
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