Into a Mirror, Crying
Who am I,
looking at me
staring into a mirror
at a gaze looking back
inside my eyes…
…crying.
Why am I here?
…no place of my own.
…no hope of simple solice.
No respect for me being me.
What is this life
without hope?
Where am I going?
Where have I been?
I have been the best I can,
given me,
but for a price.
An amount of tears wagered on my humanity
a death of what most live for.
Why do I feel greater than the masses.
…who can ignore.
…who can have joy.
Why do I try?
…to cohabitate.
…to play their game.
Why do I worry?
…about having the stuff they seem to worship.
Why should I care?
…about a warm place to sleep.
Who am I,
Staring at myself
Breathing
Through a life I don’t care to live.
Just wanting to be held.