Disclaimer - I don't own Gundam Wing or any of it's characters, it's just a poem I wrote.

Judged by the Mask

Judged by the mask

The mask I created

Three personas

Each having their own stereotypes

I made them to keep hurt away

But now, people don't know me

Only those personas

And the hurt comes flooding back

I'm trapped within the confines of my own creation

Why can't anyone see beyond the clown?

Why would they want to ?

Don't think I'm not grateful for all these masks have done for me

But I'm no longer sure where I end and the masks begin

Am I even there anymore?

The Maxwell's demon, that's what they call me

Perhaps they're right

If I hadn't been there, maybe two hundred odd people would be alive now

I was already the clown then

But he couldn't help me out of that guilt, I needed something more

That something came to me in the form of Shinigami

My past has built expectations about me

The only thing I can do now is live up to them

I become the true god of death for those few moments in every battle

Afterwards, I see what I have done, the chaos I have helped create

The lives I have taken, the ones I've ruined

I'm creating more Maxwell's demons with every battle

I have to become the clown again to sheild myself from that self hatred

To help the others hold up to the strain of taking lives

The clown is there to help the others see that what we do can't be all evil

But do I even believe that myself anymore?

I'm not sure.

The others never try to see beyond the masks

Maybe they're afraid of what they might find

Maybe...

I'm still a boy

I haven't grown

Those fears of what may happen, what has happened

The conflicting forces of past, present and future

The boy within me still fears them

Some part of me is that boy

I think

I know he's there, but I can't bring him to the surface

Maybe he's afraid of what he has become

I'm not sure

One thing I do know is that I can't remove the masks

What will become of the boy behind them?

What am I if not the clown, or the god of death?

I'm too used to the twisted sense of security that these masks bring

Take them away, and the others don't know me anymore

I won't be known, not even by myself

Is that what true freedom feels like?

I'm not sure

Judged by the mask

The mask I created

Maybe it's better off this way

I'm not sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~

End. R&R please, if you didn't like it, well I guess you're entitled to your opinion, I know It was short, but I quite liked it.

Feedback please.

~ The Unguided Angel.