Posted in anxiety, depression, mental health, poem, poetry, Uncategorized

Fly on the wall (3rd poem)

I often wondered what it would be like

to be a fly on the wall, unseen

watching passers by dance, mocking

the ground with their stamping feet.

 

I often wondered what it would be like

to be a fly on her wall, unseen

watching as she cries, mocking

herself harshly in the bathroom mirror.

 

I often wondered what it would be like

to be a fly on his wall, unseen

watching the frantic phone calls, mocking

himself harshly for not knowing sooner.

 

I often wondered what it would be like

to be a fly on their wall, unseen

watching them tell their stories, loving

their new perspective, a new hope.

 

Do you wonder what it would be like

to be a fly on our wall, unseen

seeing what life would be like, loving

the way the world now is for them.

 

I often wonder if we are all

just flies on a wall, unseen

but collectively, we are reaching

for the life that we are yet to have.

Author:

Georgia is my pseudoname. Michaelson because THE ORIGINALS. I blog about random life events, mostly centred around mental health.

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