I stand before the mirror how nude,
Asking myself this question: who am I?
To think so long for a second pass;
This wait be crime against identity,
How now then shall I be so true
If not myself in honest word
Then painted thick ropes so coloured
The very essence of my being here,
Till that which I saw in past
In abrupt sanction then came alive,
The walls around me would my life
Then reflect. The windows became sight
For knowing my soul arrested in light,
For I can never be so free without dark,
For within such a shade no torch to see
Did declare the Sun’s blind rays to task:
How much longer should life’s comedy play?
This lie I carry is but breathing poison,
As it breeds in me so latent and so free
Within the darkest chambers of my veins,
One could never believe I was never lying
When I told them so. When I am as so.
How sad it must be to be so gay;
For depressing moments so dull and grey
Are also the most happiest moments.
Without which, could you be who you are now?
In myself rather, my heart whispers: ere I die,
I shall teach my children lessons I knew,
The things that are, what they ought expect:
You am the sum of all the folk you meet.
You am the product of all those you sire.

Category:
Family, Life, Pestiferous, Poetry, Works
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