Self image

The way we see our-self
can be such a joy....
We can paint a picture oh so fine
that it fills our heart with content.
The brush that my mind holds
can blur the wrinkles and the scars
and leave me looking like a star....

It's the mask that I put on each day
that helps me cope with demands
.... people pressing.... always stressing
I don't know how to live
without my daily mask

But then some little thing
will prick my bubble like a sting
and in that moment... in that flash of pain....
my beautiful image shatters....
and I'm left looking at the remains

The me that's inside
is now on plain display
I cringe.... "Don't look" I cry
How can you bear to see
a thing as ugly as me?

What can I do to change the view
of the thing that's inside of me
... it should be hidden from you.

Will you love me none the less?
.... help me cope with this awful mess
that's been left behind
by the lifetime grind
of hiding...  hiding.... always hiding

© Ian Croft March 2019