I look into the faces
Of those that pass me by
Brokenness and anguish
That cannot be disguised

Behind their painted faces,
The Masks they dare not shed
Are the windows to their souls
In which the Faint of heart won’t tread

One whose heart is small
In comparison to the Maker
Will try to look beneath
A mask that does not waver

A heart naught for this world
That loves in truest form
The rarest of all treasures
To few, this heart is born

This heart must understand
Though it tries to be so brave
That there are just some people
That this heart just can’t save

This heart must be protected
Even more so than the rest
And wait for God to give it
To one that He deems best