Knowing Me

Reading the voices!
Knowing the words!
Longing to be beside that human being
who wrote, myself upon the page.
Seeing the connection of make believe,
visualize that reality, knowing every move,
taking my time, not running away.

My story so boldly told,
by a stranger for all to behold.
Who are you? When you know me so well,
when I know you not at all!

Feeling queasy at the thought that
you paint me so well, in your words.
Feeling guilt at your time
spent in labour on that rhythm.
Running away, 'cause now I know
it wasn't me you wrote about so well,
but part of the game you play,
for in your tales, I now see what
my world is really meant to be.

Lesley Roberts 17 July 2002 (7:32PM)