What’s the point of the way we view?
Is it life through me or am I looking through you?
Have I chosen this path or lead by my hand?
Can I honestly be sure of whose shoes I stand?
The shadows that darken each crevice and cleft,
Are cast from the light that I unknowingly left,
Gestures of kindness cast from my soul,
Are easily twisted and used to cut holes.
Two faces each person Jackals and Hyde’s,
Are we telling the truth, or spitting out lies?
Is a smile a smile, or is it falsely worn?
Is the skin that we wear our true uniform?
If stripped bare and showered,
Would we like what we see?
Would I be looking at you?
The way you look at me?
Oh dear, you put here questions that torments my soul.. Sometimes, scared of self, in a constant fight between dirt and clean ..I try to give a plus to kindness yet that is a thing not quite easy to realise bare naked ..yes we have both inside , the good and bad, maybe we need only a simple uniform which let at sight a small patch of skin -the one that covers our hearts..only maybe, how could I know?.. Great poem, I could read it again and again, thank you!