Talks in response
Says a lot of no’s
Laughs at herself
Goes with the flow
Thrives on surprises
And I often
Slink closer to observe her
Like I still can’t believe
Tales of an ordinary mirror
things we hide from ourselves
conflicts emanated that remain
safely placed behind our vivid blinders
while living inventions that please
our idea of the world
of mythical boundaries
never leaving our side, battered,
the truths we ignore hold on and murmur
invites to inherent freedom
we go on without detecting
the scope, the expense of self-denial
clutching the shadow of the control panel
In the realm of hierarchy people naturally accept their place, simply because it was there before the dawn of time.
The beneficiaries ignore that which doesn’t belong on their rack and, every so often, desirously look at silent behinds of those they deem superior. On occasion, displaying a chilly smile, they pass on handfuls of bank notes to those who are a class below.
As heavens carry true and false yells for change, most beneficiaries couldn’t survive knowing that people are just people. Less than an inch away sits the change, tragically patient, for that eye contact between the classes never comes.
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I reached out.
Over and over again,
I plummeted to unbearable grounds.
You can’t be a friend to anyone
Who isn’t befriended by himself.
Once the veil was lifted our fellowship began and, as I got to know the many facets of fear, I developed the ability to see it in others. In time, I came to peace with fright emerging in my stomach in the face of unknown. I recognized that it was a trademark of being human rather than what derived from the experience: fear keeps us moving forward.
Without freezing when my own anxiety draws closer to greet me, a sense of identity emerged and I discovered that I am amongst those who will never quite know who they are.
Some of us have anchored characters and some, like me, act as chameleons of experience. Still, every now and again I like to take a peek over my fence.
(Part IV – The End)
Read part I, part II and part III
The message was short so although dozy, I captured it with a single glance. It read:
“I wanted to send you at least something, so I send you this.”
It’s been over a decade since the sentence sneaked into my phone’s display one night in the wee hours, causing a perpetual smile.
Words alone may not once be enough to express our feelings. But the art of communication is about the courage to reveal that there are hidden meanings, waiting to be explored.