by Edwina Maria Thompson
© 2017
Who Am I?
I look in the mirror,
But what do I see?
The ghost of the person,
I once thought was me.
My sunken eyes empty.
No lashes or hair.
My brows slowly fading.
In silence, I stare.
So, I search for what’s left,
I draw on a face.
I cover my baldness,
All done without haste.
“I’m ready”, my voice tells,
This image I’ve made.
“I know that you’re in there,
I won’t let you fade…”
“But it grows back!”, they say,
Cheap words in the air.
Ok, you try it then,
Now that makes it fair…
Don’t question my fears and,
Don’t tell me to wait!
You have to live through this,
To know of my fate.
I try to be happy,
I laugh and I smile.
All through this false image,
I hold for a while.
But inside, I’m broken,
A battle each day;
To smile at this disguise,
And not hide away.
So next time you see me,
With ‘wisdom’ to share…
Remember I’m struggling,
With just being there.
I’ve looked in the mirror,
That morning and seen,
The shell of a person,
That I had once been.
Leave a Reply