I wrote this following poem during the Covic Scam-demic!
A picture may speak a thousand words,
but the mask silences them all—
Not for protection, but for projection.
Not worn out of wisdom,
but as a badge of fear, conformed to noise.
Like a relic from a fading religion—
unquestioned, unchallenged, unseen.
Still worn by those whose gospel is panic
and whose prophets are politicians.
But the veil is tearing.
“And I see your face not hidden, but echoing truth:
We were never meant to be muzzled
