The glass is cracked.
I can’t seem to see my way through.
This image of me couldnt possibly be true.
Split in a thousand ways. How so?
So says the mirror and i feel the same way.
Like a crack through the middle isn’t enough.
But numerous cracks in mundane proportions?
Each representing a hollow to fill.
What i want to be, the things i have to do.
The tasks required for me to ‘Be It All’.
Some things i need to add, some i need to take off.
For the the cracks to be gone in a magical puff.
Though the cracks are ever before me.
Still i foresee a day when it’ll become whole.
When i shall once again see clearly.
The perfect me staring back at me.
The cracks; my inadequacies, excesses and inherent responsibilities.
In the distance i see my dreams and aspirations.
With the cracks standing in the way of it all.
I’ll go ahead and fill the cracks so i can see Me – Made and Standing Tall.