People see what they want to see,
but they don’t live inside of me.
They don’t know the hurts and the lies
that cloud the oceans of my eyes.
So young; and I was overgrown,
layered in skirts of soil and stone.
My slender mind was tightly bound,
left lifeless on the battle ground.
I would that I could wash away
the stains and scars of yesterday;
but life is sad and bittersweet
whose dust clings to my weary feet.
I’ve survived the hatred and spite
whose hands gave way to blackened night
whose hurts were high and joys were low
who lays in death six feet below.
Yet, I am haunted, haunted still,
oppressed beyond my want or will;
and yet, I strive, I strive to be
what people want and people see.
Till life has died and death has come
in bouquets of chrysanthemum
will I move onward, onward be
what people want and people see.
Linda Marie Van Tassell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-people-want-and-people-see/
