Nothing will ever match
the whiteness of this mask;
this mask which frowns at the world
from within, without apology.
Sparks of recognition send signals
to other masks stained white,
as they form a vast ocean of whitecaps
bobbing in golden rays of sunshine.
Manicured, bejeweled hands steer a bright future,
blocking from their vision eddies of muted colors;
impoverished souls struggling along, clinging
to life on their makeshift rafts, while untold
injustice rules from behind the white masks,
camouflaged as justice, whitewashed.


3 old applause
