Being Real
Amid a sea of faces
I am a pencil sketch..
The outline correct
But my features blurry.
Hard to know where
I stop and my shadow
begins...trying hard to
decide which one is real.
Days are automatic,
one and then another,
not feeling strong emotion,
easy enough, muted pain...
The world can seem distant
perhaps I'm someone else's story
written yesterday on the
ever shifting sand......
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2012
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