We in the halls looked at him:             

He looked different like a fool,          Descriptive Detail

Tall and acted on a whim.

 

And he was always to himself,

And always seen with that hat;

Always seen near a bookshelf,

And never wanted to chat.                  Stereotyped Characters

 

So every day he came and past,

And we gawked and stared;

Then one day he had a cast,            Objective Manner 

And we never know what he impaired.

A black Bic pen                   Stream of consciousness

Which shines brightly         Varied forms of style/content

Besides the notebook    

It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— 

This debt we pay to human guile; 

With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, 

And mouth with myriad subtleties. 

Why should the world be over-wise, 

In counting all our tears and sighs? 

Nay, let them only see us, while 

       We wear the mask. 

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries 

To thee from tortured souls arise. 

We sing, but oh the clay is vile 

Beneath our feet, and long the mile; 

But let the world dream otherwise, 

       We wear the mask!