Poem: Shadows

we hide beneath the empty shadows
of everyone else's perception of who we are
letting the incomplete images of strangers
create for us our whole self repertoire.

keeping ourselves busy,
we are enslaved to chaos
like a compass to the sea
running from self awareness
because it's less comfortable than anxiety.

in our core, we crave to be known
in all the depths our soul fills
but our fear keeps our real identity buried--
only the pretty sides of our humanity
are the masks carried.

we walk upon streets of broadcasted dreams
what we wear, what we eat, what we do
shown off to the world--
just those pretty little things.

but the real needs of our heart
you know, the ugly, the vulnerable, the weakness
remain hidden deep within the fabric
of all our tightly woven secrets.

so we remain in facade, our souls
quarantined behind walls of unbreachable loneliness
sparkling shells on stage for the public
rejecting love in exchange for the perception of holiness.

we let our souls die so we can let our secrets live
being known: a fantasy existing only in "potentially"
how many more days must pass
as we wait in anguish for eventually?

let's embrace discomfort as we discover for the first time
what is hidden from flawed perception,
let's give up the tired illusion
and surrender idealism in exchange for connection.

- a. b. martin

2 thoughts on “Poem: Shadows

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