Each of us has a story
To tell
A map of our life
In each of our cells
In the way that we move
In the people we see
Is calmness evident
To the people we meet?
Is clarity seen
When doubt prevails?
Does persona encourage
Or do we doubt ourselves?
When I’m sad, I don’t scream and shout,
‘I’m fine,’I say and shut it out;
Reflection of a mirror
Or have I lied
With the true map of my life
Folded neatly inside?
Being true to myself
Admitting defeat
To share the journey
Is a silent relief
Imperfections accepted
To be seen as we are
Loved by someone near
Not from afar.

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