A face,
That’s what I see.
Is the face you show to me,
The same or different than others see?

The apple of your parent’s eye
A paragon of duty.
No bar of perfection is too high
For you, an undeniable beauty.

Never do a single thing wrong
At least where prying eyes can see.
All the thoughts that don’t belong
No one knows but me and thee.

Your face,
The one you show to them,
Isn’t the one you show to me.

How many others think they know you?
But only a projection do they see.
Versions aplenty, if only they knew
How contradictory you appear to be.

No substance, composed of nothing
defined by what others want to see.
Fawning over you, loving and gushing
Without foundation is their glee.

Your face,
The one you show to me,
Is it really you, or just what I want to see?

Am I special because I know your secret?
Or maybe I don’t know my place.
Have you shown me the whole you,
Or just another face?

Are there versions you haven’t shown?
How many ways can you divide?
How many contradictions
Can your soul abide?