Abstraction Of Our Lives Poem by Alexandro Johns

The man I am, nobody can see.
A forest of faces chases me
to make up the tale of my life.
I've always lived
in the image of those who look at me.

I belong to everyone's abstraction
and even I don't know the real nature of people;
I had a father and mother according to my creation,
and I have covered my loves and hatreds
with the disguises of my thought.
Maybe my true self
is the fiction that simulated life
in the square horizon of my lines.

Who can break this white vault
which encloses us in everyone's imagination?
The truth of each one
is hidden in Medusa's eyes.