Sunday, May 20, 2012

On My Naked Self (Poem)

I look at the man in the mirror;
I see myself;
there is nothing special about me,
my rolls go around,
my voice trembles,
and I have a funny face;
I am a fool,
because I know the only real thing is love;
I stand to the world
because I know it can't be good.
There is nothing real,
except my heart;
why I see myself like this?

I still see the boy,
who used to shed in tears
every-time the world shattered in-front of him;
But I guess, I am still that little boy;
nothing special,
nothing interesting,
just real,
just there,
just crying,
just singing,
just alone;
because there is no one around;
I wanted to break the rules,
But I still don't like my face,
But I know is real,
because maybe I'm in love.

I'm waiting for the rainy days to be over;
to the storm that is on the other side of the mirror to be over;
I want to know if that face is real?
If that body is real?
If that boy is real,
because I want to know it beyond my heart

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