Above the surface

 Above the surface

our masks are all we see,

the same ones

that hide what's true

we cannot outrun them.

Above the surface

the scars that sleep

awaken to a new dawn,

my thoughts resurface

like the early morning dew.

Above the surface

our true nature slumbers,

the only thing we see

are mirror images

images of our true selves.

Above the surface

our tears are superficial,

only the soul knows

what pain exists within

these words are all there is.

Above the surface

our words never matter,

they once did

but it never shows

above the surface.

© Adiela Michael Osiah

©2022

STEPPE

 The sun bids farewell by taking its golden color,

Touching your temples like a busse in autumn.

Not by passing innocent people like that,

It leaves a warm smile to every living thing,

But cold, people are “sometimes” deceived.

Because human scent

It is in front of the sun’s autumn hello.

H.A.