Across life’s halls, I have come up against hardened walls
Who did I reach through the bars for
If it is not me?
Walking the jagged jumbled mazes, I shred through the haze
Who do I see across the room
If it is not me?
Lining up the rear windows, I will peer fearlessly across the tableau
Who should I search for in the muted light
If it is not me?
Categories: Culture, identity, Poetry, Psychology
psychologistmimi 