Who are you.
I look behind the mask you wear.
Your fake smile and your well cut hair.
I look into your eyes. And yet.. you stare. Blankly.
Who are you? I wonder.
Can I trust you? You in the trackie bottoms
And the scruffy hair.
And I think…
Are we really going to be defined by what we wear?
Prada, ADIDAS, Primark, CARHARTT
Stupid big names that have made their mark.
On you. On me.. on all of us here.
We wear these dumb labels with pride. And…
Yet I ponder. Who am I?
Stripped naked I see you stand and shiver.
Too masked in the pressure,
To stand up and stand tall.
Until one day.
The tears bleed out.. rolling down your cheeks like a waterfall.
And I see you.
Because it’s just like a mirror.
What was it all for?
Your eyes request an answer.
An answer I do not have.
And so I shrug back.
‘Life is pain’ and that’s a fact.
Just don’t be afraid.
This too shall pass.
And he removes the mask.
‘Do you like what you see?’ he asks.
It really. It really doesn’t matter to me.
Smiling gently…the mirrored image
Disappears back into the glass.
And there I am.
Left with me.
Dedicated to all those I have met on my journey. To all those I haven’t met yet. And to those simply passing by. I wish you all well..
Written by Becki Burrows
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