Identity Crisis
She looks in the
mirror,
“What do I see?
Some stranger’s
face
staring back at
me.”
Vaguely familiar
yet so very odd,
the mask she
wears,
it’s just a
fraud.
Trying to be
someone
great or someone
small
but, with the
weight of that,
surprising she
can stand at all.
More faces appear
“Be like me”,
they insist,
“be like him, be
like her”
Will she resist?
She tries to
appease them,
her failure is
great.
They get what
they want,
but what they
want, they hate.
She cries and she
shouts,
“Just let me be
me!”
One by one, they fade,
‘til just her
face she can see.
This one is simply perfect
(though, of
course, it is flawed)
this one she can love,
it was a gift
from God.
Some days she
still battles,
those faces and
clamour,
but peace and
relief surge
if she holds true
to her demeanour.
Because in the
end,
what matters is
being true
to the character
God made,
the incredible,
unique you!
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