Disguises are worn, they hide a world of fear,
Hidden with colors of false smiles or frozen frowns.
We laugh and we dance, juggle our thoughts and emotions,
Our world Is a cage, a circus of freaks and entertainment.
We challenge our own mortality, on a high wire we dance,
Shot through a cannon to where we may land, life In hand.
Faces of clowns, dressed In costumes they seem secure,
Acts put on for children, are they not the young that have tears.
We dress in our own costumes, put on a face that we choose,
Is what appears real only a magicians magic, a trick of sorts.
Whatever expression we wear, whatever makeup we’re made of,
Faces of clowns, we all wear faces of clowns.
Keith Garrett
keithgarrettpoetry 
I wrote a poem called “Masked” (I posted it on my blog), expressing similar sentiments. I suppose as a human race we all wear a form of a mask to survive.
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