Stories

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.