Sentiment

If I wore a different face would I recognize myself?

If I no longer had the struggle of beautiful tears,

Falling from beautiful eyes,

Would they still be the windows into the soul I know now?

Or am I given literature as a pastime?

To pass the time I would otherwise waste looking in the mirror?

Would I be kind?

As kind as I am when I know the value of a smile?

The teenage in me contemplates the possibilities,

I know what I wish I would see,

When looking in the mirror, 

But I don't think I recognize it.

None of my family knows such a stranger,

Who would I be if I looked like her?

Who's eyes would I carry along the grave?

What laugh would match pitch with the past?

Without the echo of faces among the line,

I may be brand new,

But there's more value in a sentiment,

Someone who's created from something more,

Something beautiful.

So no,

I don't think I would recognize her,

Her being,

Me as anyone else.