Clarity
Sometimes it's clear who I should be
Be it blood, a lover, or friend
And adjust myself acordingly
Upon situation it must depend
Sometimes I'm painted with the past
Things hidden, unsaid, abstract
And if I stare into the glass
I don't like who looks back
Sometimes I feel that my kind
Is cowardly, upon review
Afraid to act or speak my mind
Pretense is what shows through
Sometimes it seems the path turns straight
As though by some grand design
And progress is made if I can wait
Believing things will be just fine
Sometimes I know I'll get me right
Grow beyond this selfish exam
So when I see myself through my sight
I'll know just who I am
Copyright © Angela Dean | Year Posted 2017
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