Coming to a mirror image,
Dull is my thinking that age;
From the site of my being,
To my impure seems.
No thus wonder of the disagreement;
Just a plain material on the side,
That from the day and night,
Deeply in me, they both reside.
Affirming the sensation,
A fear of not fit in;
Fake trues where told,
That the world acclaims to be.
Society’s standards at its deepest,
Sets up the general rule,
That for one self-acceptance,
Some lies must be use.
However, when I see my reflection;
I don’t see whom I expected;
Instead, I see a single statement ;
a simple comment to myself.
This thought that ran wild through my head;
That a ‘me’ with no defects ,
is, and will not be me at all.
Why would I lie in something as basic as ‘I’?
If I want my existence to be remember,
My life as I was,
then I have to show myself,
just the way am I.
I’ll go around with a snap,
One that reflects both good and bad,
I’ll show the world about my presence
All that with a “#No Filter” at all.