One of a kind

The mirror’s fog gradually clears

We can see ourselves in

The faces with the peering eyes - They

Crumble under the weight of their imperfection

Yet they perceive.

Myself I spy in another’s eye

It is not how I see me from the inside.

Built on a faulty framework

Their view is skewed, it is shrouded truth.

Why does it matter…? In the scheme of things

I am a mote, a speck, a small stain

On the fabric on time and reality.

I know I have purpose, but feel so weak.

Grasping onto misperceptions of normalcy,

When I am simply one of a kind

Who doesn’t yet know when it’ll be time.


WCF