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All Of My Many MasksI was a prisoner of war, I'd like to share with you how I was born this way, stuck inside myself and I wanted out now The me the who I am, was so fearful and sad I wanted to talk from my heart, but I was so shy and very mad My life turned out to be such a disappointment to me It was not any other person I needed to look at and see My decisions and choices I made over my life Generated inside of me much confusion and strife I sat in this prison cell of my own thinking, wanting so much to be free Looking through those bars to life where I sat, was me How do I break out of this prison, this life that was mine, I asked? First, I had to begin with putting my trust in God, then, peeling away what I wore ... all of my many masks. Debra McGee Trammell 10-20-04 Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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