Faces pass by, some stay ingrained while others fade away.
Some laugh and smile, while others hide the pain.
Some speak out, and give you a hand, others push you down deeper.
I was raised to be strong, both willed and strength.
Never make a mistake, or prove you are better then them.
As the faces pass, I see the past.
I see the struggle, the fight. I see the mental exhaustion, and the physical doubt.
But I also see the happy, the smiles, even some tears.
I walk more and see the present.
I see the stress, and the anxiety.
I see the fight to say the right thing with the fear of every movement.
I see the scars of the people who left.
But i also see the hope, the strength and confidence.
I see the ability to stand strong against any adversity.
I also come to the end of my stop, most of the faces are gone now, but all that is left is the future.
Itβs blurry, and hard to see.
But I do see it.
I see pain, and struggle
I see heartbreak and many tears.
But there is also love, and laughter.
There is peace, and happiness. There are people dancing and living life.
The faces are gone now, I am left alone. And I see myself.
I see the scared little girl, the temperamental tween, the stressed young adult, the excited adult, and the blessed elder.
I see the happiness coincides with the pain, unable to have one without the other somewhere.
I see the faces of me, the faces of the life that is behind and ahead of me.
Some faces are fading way, only becoming distant memories, others are becoming more fixed.
For those faces make up me, the work in progress, but still a piece of art.