“Who are you?”
by Guineesha Bosquet
Here before life and long after death
Time is so fragile, yet never broken
Kept in its own overbearing shadow
The clock strikes one, and a new day has begun
The sun shines through the window, but for whom?
The world is all gloomy and grey, and I swear to the apple’s decay
Why do the stars wait millions of years to come through to an empty sky?
Perhaps It’s their first time seeing one another or have come here to shine for those blinded by their insecurities surely
How
Do tell how one could be sure of anything if unsure of their own name?
The name given to you before during and after the your mother’s womb and the name that
follows you till death do you part, yet even then, isn’t entirely gone.
Does it matter if that name is changed into another variation that people use as the years go by
Cause remembering is to hard, trying is even harder, well try living
Who are you?
It’s almost time to go, but it’s not so simple anymore, is it? The sun isn’t as bright, and the
ground isn’t as solid. The air isn’t as clear, and the wind doesn’t hit my skin the same. But who cares if the world’s still spinning?
Tell me this?
Is this just the reality that young minds hide behind, closed eyes so nobody sees em
Well the monster doesn’t go away once you pull the covers over your head
The sun going down at night may change the time of day but not the feeling it gave you.
But the world keeps spinning.
Stuck in one place and moving on to the next, if the world can do it then so can you.
You don’t have as many bruises or been on as many cruises as the world that spins despite the abuses, so why don’t you
But perhaps you do because the world can’t be without its people just as the sea is nothing
without it’s creatures
But one thing’s for sure the world keeps spinning
So the question of the day is really: Who are you, anyway?
