The Beautiful Gate

 The reflection in the mirror is Me. The one who looks back and I see. The hair all disheveled and the lofty half grin... and the clothes, with the rip and the tear.


To those looking in, I am as neat as a pin. For acting on a stage, is my ultimate sin. I dab on some power and a splash of perfume.... and for money in the bank, I enter my tomb.


I allow you to see, who I would never be. For the portrait I paint, is not the real me. I hide in a shell, away from the world.... for destiny calls, when my toes are curled.


Maybe tomorrow, you might look beneath... And find me shaken and sifted like wheat. If the cry of my heart, draws you within.... Then understand my darling, you will always win.


The one that is Me, is willing to shine... When the Lord says Yes and gives me a sign. Till then, in a cocoon, covered by faith...... I wait in expectation, at the Beautiful Gate.


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