Who am I ?

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Who am I ?

When all the layers are peeled away

Who am I ?

When I glance into the mirror, I scarce recognize myself

Who am I ?

Each day I wonder down this lonely dusty road filled with beggars and I ask myself

Who am I ?

Noises fill the foggy air, buses roar, horns honk, I can barely hear myself think

Who am I ?

When I dress in the morning in baggy cotton clothes and gently brush and braid my hair

Who am I ?

At morning mass when noises fade and soft melodic voices fill the empty spaces

Who am I ?

As small children run around under foot and tiny hands reach out to me

Who am I ?

If I should curl my hair and place makeup on my face, would I be me ?

Who am I ?

Today I caught a glimpse of a woman in a window, she was a sad stranger with lonely eyes and then she smiled back at me

Who am I ?

Rosie McNeil – Written while volunteering in Kolkata India, 2014

 

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