look at me and my smile
and like a magical vile,
if you look away
and see me as another display
do I disappear?
like some lost poem of Shakespeare?
turn around and see me clear
do I slowly start to appear?
or am I as lost,
as last years fallen frost
So do I even exist
or am I to be dismissed?
see me as I am
not a holy Abraham
not what I never was
or what I have lost
not a poet Browning
but maybe someone drowning
because in the end what are we but ‘matter’
finding a way to all be flatter