A Damsel Or a Camel
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Why drowning when there's
the ability to swim in me?
Why sleeping in the cold woods
with a match box in my Jacket
and an Axe below my head?
Why the self condemnation
when I'm a billion miles ahead of a billion?
What exactly do I see in my inner mirror?
Is Life embracing or pointing a finger at me?
I see a pretty one of huge significance
with effective duties like an Angel.
But also, I see the ugly one
dust to sand, stone to rock
that's just its living sequel.
I view a perspective
rough but sweet; challenging but interesting
which is exactly my gospel.
But then, I see them as temptations
and tests with no ability to repel.
I notice when walking through red coals
I never let my tears be my Life's panel
but the submission of my adaptation becomes so parallel.
I'm mind blowing and noticeable
like a newly-sewed apparel.
But day and night, I posses a tag with
just one label.
No matter the task to stay beautiful
nothing stops that quest to excel
but I see a limitation to
just a specific ordered function
like the ringing bell.
I'm staying elegant and attractive
making all long to be part of my counsel
but my usefulness, worth and confidence
no self awareness to propel.
Beginning as crude
coming out as a refined Jewel
but still, reality seems so cruel.
What exactly is my mirror saying?
Is my Life that of a Damsel or a Camel?
This, I just cannot tell!
Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2014
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