the mask

the mask
    they mask up and you become their friend,
you know them,but yet they have different faces
their hands filled with thorns,yet they scratch your back
chilli in their mouth,but yet they blow your eyes
they slay your absence,but yet they sing praises of your presence
decay coated with gold
they laugh deep down at your dismay,but yet they cry
they give you a broken chair to sit
enemies and enemies they are,at my doorstep again
another effort thwarted as before
whom they caught was the space
which i vacated in a swift pace
to retain the smile on my face
from the enemy masked as a friend