My eyes, Can see through you Through the transparent beauty of your skin. You are the fake, The one who is pretending. My eyes, Can see through the looking glass of yesteryear. Upon the begining, Upon the start, Where you relinquished yourself. Who are you? My eyes can see, Deep within the walls of your soul, Into the self you know not of. Burning the brand of destiny, Into your soul The scorching iron fares, The mocking voice of your conscious, Telling you, your faults Naggingly redundent. Revealing the truth, Of who you are, Of what you were, And of who you pretend to be. The relentless bearer of virtue. Had you forgotton, That under the mask lay a person, Other than the greasy layers of makeup A true person, So delicately placed until further notice. The buds of your flower open, Baring the newborn petals of life. Emerging from the cocoon, the butterfly. Fluttering the wings of a new destiny, For the first time. The truth suddenly apparent Youself, all aglow with light Your soul re-born from the watery depths. A second birth, another chance To prove you are once again you. My eyes saw this, They started this ressurrection of soul Now you are a whole, a real person Defying uncertainty No longer a mask, no longer a pretender.
Reason for writing:
I wrote this poem to rely my feelings about people who always pretended to be something they were not until they realized that they were better off as themselves. It kind of was something that happened to me , as it does to alot of people.
Birth sign: Not entered
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