Poem Comments

Who are you really?

A comfort to the insecure
Something behind they hide
Something to cover the little things
That they bury deep inside
Through eye holes we seem to peer
Hidden behind our glossy masks
Our true faces will soon disappear
Until we end our tasks

Trapped and helpless in ourselves
We seem destined to become
A porcelain shell upon our face
To the gloss we will succumb
The stars lead and we follow
In every fad and trend
Blind behind our shiny masks
Oblivious to our end

For what make us who we are
If not our little faults
These blemishes we cover
But around them we do waltz
We all strive to be divine
And faultless to a tee
But I’d rather grow a spine
Than hide the real me.