I am free to feel, free to kneel,
To talk to god, who helps me peel the layers of paint,
I piled on my skin,
when all I wanted was to cover my sins.
As time went by, the paint did dry,
and before I knew it I was encased in lies.
One day when I woke, I looked in the mirror to find,
that I had quite nearly lost my mind all of this time.
I thought no one could see, because of the layers protecting me.
That I was a fake, a phony, a farce, my feelings sparse,
But, when I opened my eyes and gazed at my reflection,
I saw indeed I had no protection.
The paint which I thought was covering me was not paint at all.
But was hate you see, and everyone knows that hate is transparent.
It's clear and obvious and ever present.
So while I thought I was putting one over,
I was wrong, I did soon discover.
Everyone knew just exactly how I felt,
because it was painted all over myself.
Next time I'll remember, when I'm tempted to try,
that there is no such thing as living a lie.
Because with lies come hate, and everyone knows,
Hate is as transparent as the wind when its blows…..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very nice.loved the way you inked desire to be freed.keep inking.