The warmth of light makes its way through a slit in the curtains,
My eyes follow the the rays' path to the glimmering mirror.
I look at myself, into my own eyes.
A deep gaze introspecting my very being.
I see a bit of you in the mirror,
I see your unfulfilled goals and broken dreams that burn a fire in my soul.
I see your hopes, your aspirations.
The same dreams that you weren't allowed to follow;
But the ones that you let me run towards blindly,
I see who you could have been;
If 'holy matrimony' wouldn't have doused the fire in you.
Dear mum, did you raise me in hopes that I, Would fulfill those dreams for you someday?
Did you raise me such that your aspirations blended with mine,
Like oil paints forming a new hue on canvas.
I'm honoured to carry the torch of your fire,
I carry it prouder than athletes in the Olympics.
But as I see myself staring back,
I can only wonder:
Have I lost myself along the way?
Have I been so immersed in making you proud that I've lost sight of my own dreams, wants and happiness?
Is the same torch now a burden?
As I struggle to find my own identity;
As I struggle to stay afloat amidst the goals you set for me
The same goals my eyes once gleamed with,
But today they weigh me down.
Today as I stare at my reflection,
I see not only the sacrifices that I was moulded with,
But also 'life objectives' that were subtly slid into my mind.
All the support and freedom, I shall forever be grateful for.
But Dear mum,
I don't see myself when I look into the mirror anymore.
My own reflections seem hostile to me
And dear mum,
I need to pause and find the young girl I lost along the way.
YOU ARE READING
Unfinished Paintings
PoesíaA collection of my prose, poetry and epiphanies over the past couple of years. I've always loved writing and composing, but I'd never assumed anything I wrote was worth being read by anyone but myself. Writing has always been a way for my mind to co...
