I see me but not me, I trust myself but I can’t allow that trust. My whole life suddenly seems to be built on a lie not truth, who am I, what is my path in this life? It all seems to be invented memories, fake sentimentality, all lies, I don’t deserve this, I deserve happiness, true emotions, my eyes are empty blanks, who am I, who am I?
My life seems full of blank spaces, where others have fun lives, mine is full of boredom and sadness. But I do remember the happy times, laughing, loving, being silly. The great gifts of life.
Ghost haunt my waking hours as the dust settles on the mirror and it starts to tell a lie. Maybe on reflection, the rain clouds and shadows hide the sun and the truth will be seen once they drift on by.
The piano plays a long forgotten tune, as scattered rose petals died long ago. The music of dance in the scented laughter fields faded into dust. No longer words sing like morning songbirds.
Who could believe the names and words can hurt us, or by closing eyes our world could dissolve.
Winter winds of loneliness chill us. Will I be remembered when I am gone, or will the earth cease to revolve.
Words I have written will be trapped inside a book, then as the mirror showed up harsh words and images, maybe they;d turn the pages and look
and look
and..............
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