Does how others see us have to affect us? Maybe, maybe not, but as this poem shows, it is a difficult thing to escape their eyes.
One car, two cars, three cars pass.
I want to escape the power;
The power of their eyes.
The first time you reach down
On the side of the road
To pick up a can or bottle;
Pick it up and put it in your bag
Without hesitation, without waiting…
For traffic to clear.
Still you know they see you, watch you.
You know this with or without shame.
You are not immune to their eyes.
Their eyes are a part of your creation
As surely as was your mother.
When you can be what you want to be;
Or perhaps more importantly,
You can avoid being what you don’t want to be.
You can be nothing…
Soul wondering as you watch the stars:
Until, of course, the headlights come
And the stars spit you back to earth.
Thinking I can escape,
But their eyes are there in any case.
So I become once again
Something I didn’t want to be…
A man who hides behind a tree.
Feel free to send us any poems created using the Deal-A-Poem technique at: [email protected] . We will give you your own page or pages if we like your poetry.