We may walk pathes
         That others have

Colleted singular
        Footsteps upon.



           But where we are,
            It's ****** green.


And nothing is pure,
           Beyond the first footsteps.



For after one, everyone






             Is just a mirage of purit.

And everything after is a mirage

                 Of wishful thinking...

You know me,
All of me,
Who I am, am not and want to be,

You saw me,
All of me,
Who I was, was not and tried to be,

No pretence when you're around,
To your essence  I am bound,
You see me for who I am,
Warts an' all, see through the scam,

I can be my own true self,
Fake lies dust filled, on a shelf,
All that crap stuff, in the gutter,
You can see me, like no other.......

(C)eileenmcgreevy@ymail.com  07/05/2019