Examining the differences between what others might percieve in me and what I see myself. |
I am… People see me as… I don’t know, what do they see me as? Perhaps a star, burning brightly, forever One you only see as a distant dot Which you sometimes stop to admire But, really, I’m a quiet fire, which struggles to burn Not always winning Hushing to a glowing ember, hidden with grey ash Perhaps they see me as a musical composition Perfect, technically, but without that gripping quality That spirit which makes you desire to play it again, and again The spirit that inspires more ingenuity If you knew, I am a symphony of notes that do not match Some missing, some too high or too low Harshly discordant but parts composed in beauty Ringing with passion, tolling with indifference Am I not human? Or perhaps, seen as a statue, part of the background A piece of furniture in life, a feature of the proverbial package Nothing thought of much, just there, a stereotype Something that every group does not exist without But am I? Do you believe that what you see, is the truth? Inside throbs a whole world, secrets, fantasies, knowledge Imperfections, insecurity, love, dark places Possibly, they see a child, a teenager Needs guidance, is dependant Probably has all the angst and issues Thinks of all the typical teenage things Listens to her elders, that’s why she’s good Maybe even knows what she wants and where she’s going In this case, maybe I am I don’t know really, I simply aim to please Anyone but myself I am not pleased easily thus there is equal satisfaction One way or the other I long for philosophy, Utopia and Beauty I stop every day, to admire the scenery Cranes, trees, doll houses, one like the other But, different from each other, it seems like everyday, the same scene, Is different Or perhaps, you could answer that question People see me as…? |