A Stranger To Myself

I can feel the look that from within,
seeks to see the inside like a twin,
This other self, the driving force
that tries to set a different course.
These two are separate but still the same,
running each in a different lane
Fragile like a piece of delft,
I am a stranger to myself.

Trying to keep within a ‘frame’,
those shadows are to blame.
All those things, which I have done,
could it have been the other one?
Images stray from other times
to cloud the future in double time,
All those things that have passed me by
leave me stranded but with only one dry eye.

This ‘reflection’ is it ‘I’ looking in, or ‘I’ looking out?
Which side of the glass am I truly on?
And how deep is the well?
Who is it that calls me?
when in some life there falls a blow,
The seasons turn, the world spins,
and I am a stranger to myself.

Passers by, at their own pace,
perceive the world from their own place.
Discover only that it is confined;
they might as well all be blind.
Who are they? where do they go?
Visions parade into their dreams,
Their dreams are like stealth,
and I am a stranger to myself.

Who are we? We all should know,
but if we did what then would show?
The second’s pass the days go by
the world spins in its dark sky.
I wonder why it is this way.
We can all wonder but without effect,
For we are hear, and it is there,
and I am a stranger to myself.