Poetry | New Face

By Ajani Powell, Staff Columnist

I put a new face on yesterday 

For not the first time 

Nor my last,

I lashed out because it fell down

And had a glimpse of my past.

I passing the woman on the street,

She looking at me,

Moved out the way fast.

Far too quick for me

To look her way —

That’s drastic.

I wanted to tell her  

Her face fell.

And I felt that 

Pain.

Almost as if you’re suffocating.

I can’t breathe.

I remember these words distinctly, 

But remember how much worse things can be

If I don’t put on my face.

 

Now you’re putting on your face for the first time,

You tell me how bothersome it is

But some can not bother to risk their life 

without it.

Though out of habit, 

You are not used to thinking beyond your 

self Help to build support.

I suppose you could change, 

Yet I’d put pennies and dimes on those odds

Because oddly enough you rip off your face

To show your ass.

As I assumed.

You can’t live a day in our shoes,

So walk away and bask in the privilege 

Just make sure you pull up your mask.

 

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