A Question of Self

Three women sitting down together
Each discussing their lives
All are separate yet
All are the same.

A three-sided mirror sits
Each face waiting to reflect
An image.
The first face – always uncovered
Catches the sun’s rays
To send out to the world.
The second – sometimes uncovered
In only the deepest silences
Always alone despite the crowd.
The third – never uncovered.
Its face, unknown even to its owner
Who sometimes always with
The greatest of trepidation
Gathers a moment of courage
To grab the corner of the cover
Intending to pull it back and reveal
What lies beneath.
Only to stop at just the last moment,
Each and Every time.

Three women, three lives.
Three mirrors, three images.
Two lies and one truth, or
Three truths and no lies?

bare limbs against the wind

bare limbs against the wind
standing tall and firm like your gonna win.
dark and looming, the sky overhead
Fighting off the feelin’ you’re better off dead.
As rain begins to fall like tears to wet your skin
what you thought once gone, that old familiar pain appears again.
Finally the sky clears – bright and shiny,
But you’re still left feelin’ tiny,
cause buzzing around like a tease is a buzzy lil’ bee,
while you – trapped by your Roots – are busy longing to be free.