The Mask

A mask from my past,
Telling stories of laughter and smiles.
Photos to complement the many, merry memories
Of friends, fun, food and flourishing decorations

The facial ornament, embellished with golden swirls, almost like tiny crystals,
Shimmering under the bright lights of the primary school’s hall.
Simple, black thread bordering the glamorous detail,
Curling in particular patterns, like snakes weaving in and out of each other

The fragile feather, hanging on to the corner the corner of the mask’s leftside,
Reminding me of ‘The Three Musketeers’,
“All for one and one for all” roams through my mind,
As I think of musketeers of my very own.

Clutching my face with ease,
Fitting perfectly as if tailored for me,
Sitting there, over my nose, comfortably for the existence of the night,
As it had been intertwined into my meticulous braid.

Now, every evening , when the sun has retired for the night,
And the moon has come for work,
The majestic mask, towering above me, like a skyscraper, on my shelf,
Reminding me of the memories it holds, as I complete my elaborate homework.