Problems They See Displayed
You don't have to have fought in a war to have fought in a war.
Ears to listen, eyes to see,
Mouth to speak and heart to feel:
You can’t deny that this is me,
But surfaces are much less real
Than what lays hidden underneath,
What thrives in hopes, ideas, and dreams
In places that dig down beneath
My ego, id and self esteem.
Look: see my body, my shell,
But look no further, or you may
See that deep down inside, a hell
Burns hot to fuel the false display.
Nightmares of violence and abuse,
Of kidnapped children looking for
Their fathers is what is produced
Inside my mind, my wounds, my sores.
And so I stay inside my home,
The doors all locked, the shades all drawn,
Because it’s safe to be alone,
Because it’s safe to be withdrawn.
But pain, sorrow and misery
Are not the only things that I
Can call my own, that define me,
Because it’s the pain I defy.
So when you look at my gray hair
And my bent back, and think me odd,
Look deeper; see what isn’t there.
Know the real me. Not my façade.
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