#2324-Relating

Looking back through life,

It is plain to see,

How often I covered,

Different parts of me.

Feelings of exclusion,

Unfulfilled expectations,

Or insecurities,

Blended with inadequacies.

But now the covers,

Are old and cracked,

Making it simple to see,

What was hidden inside.

Different traits,

Than those in the streets,

Making it hard,

To just be me,

When all that mattered,

Was to look, feel and be,

Like everybody else,

Walking in the streets.