Who are we,
truly?
Each day, when we put on our
masks, we decide who we will show
to the world as “us.”
The colleague;
the coworker.
The son;
the Father.
The Mother;
the daughter.
The Golden Child,
living without effort.
Hated
by their siblings and cousins,
but
loathing their self more than
any other could.
The Broken One,
always making mistakes despite
trying their best.
Brushed off
as a
wasted opportunity;
what a pity.
Circumstances can be
tamped down by confidence;
faking until making
a defense against what they
couldn’t control.
Assumptions based on
clothes, appearance,
accent, and vocabulary.
Though we may strive to
empathize, it doesn’t always come
naturally.
So,
who are we,
truly?
Depends who’s asking.
by Erik Shinker
The last line though.š
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Thank you!
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Yes!
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You always choose such excellent art to go with your poems. Today’s was particularly striking and apt for this deeply evocative poem. Well done, you.
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Thank you so much! I use pictures from unsplash and they have a great selection of royalty free images.
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