The Real Me

Who told you that I'm AJ,
and everything is fine?
My dear lies are truth
and no one walks a straight line.

Who tells you that I'm cute,
and innocent and sweet?
My dear its time you learn,
most everyone steps on your feet.

Who told you that kisses
are meant to show love?
My dear passion is now lust,
and no one's sent from above.

Who told you my smile is real
and my laughter not fake?
My dear they lied to you,
my life is lived half awake

So how do you know that
you're talking to the real me?
My dear that is the simplest
and actually it's plain to see.

Look for the girl with the plastic smile,
and the laughter that speaks of fake,
look for the coldest of eyes,
There you'll find the real AJ.

by wild fire

Comments (3)

A poet needs no mask. They impression themselves through the Mind's Eye and their astute sense of dictional organization, which all come from th'main vein & axis of th' human lifeline....The Heart...but i think you knew that when you wrote this piece...Shock value has it's poignant merit....Heart value? ..P R I C E L E S S '''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''{F. j. R }
behind all those mask i can feel the real you...a great poet with true feeling
great poem, i really enjoyed it -x-