I see your mask. Worn wearily everyday to protect your insecurities.

And though I see this mask as the ugliest thing ever, most call it beauty.

Eyes shadowed, lashes lengthened by a cover girl pencil and brush 

Your not even embarrassed but somehow your cheeks blush

The soft lips that outline your beautiful smile 

hidden under a hard red cover from superficiality's vial

This mask hides your fears. 

Fear that you don't mirror the media's projected image of beauty

Fear of being brought down, defaced, and slandered by many

Fear that you will never be accepted unless you look like those who strip to pleasure immoralities

So I dare you to strip for me 

starting with your insecurities