We come into the world bared for all to see, gifted with those certain instructions survival of the fittest deemed important enough to pass along. As we pass through this life, we gather experiences. These experiences shape our reactions; they are our masks.
We all have them. A mask for our families, a mask for our friends, for our acquaintances, our enemies, strangers, our pets, ourselves. Personalities, we would call them. If you think carefully enough, are we really the same around our friends as we are around our families, or co-workers? Are we even the same around our parents, as we are around our siblings?
We have no concrete personality, we rifle between them as one would shuffle between masquerade masks; picking the right one for each and every situation.
So what is our true face? Has the world hardened our usually temporary masks to the point where we can no longer recognize ourselves? Have we buried the truth so deep that we can't even find it anymore? Will we ever escape this masquerade long enough to see our true faces? If they even exist.

There is a wall
Where shadows come to rest
There is a well
Where wishes come abreast.

It's hidden behind the thorns.
It's protected by the gates.
It's an honor you must earn.
It's a want you must forsake.

You'll have to dig up the truth
You've worked so hard to bury.
You'll see who you are,
Or you'll scoff and move along.
-AJ Sandhu