The Writer's Voice
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Faces
by
Charlie Mann
As the night approaches,
and the sun sets on the land,
I see the faces of strangers,
and I draw them in the sand.
They are not important faces,
like my parents and my peers,
These faces that I see,
are strange faces filled with tears.
But the faces are familiar,
Not to memory but to my heart.
These faces that I see,
I cannot tell apart.
These faces are apart of me,
because they are my own.
They remind me of my feelings,
That I have never shown.
These faces shy inside,
For no one else but me.
But sometimes it gets crowded,
So crowded I can't see.
I fall to the ground and reach back my hands,
and I let all the faces out.
They rush fiercely from my body,
and loudly scream and shout.
For my faces have betrayed me,
They are out but plan to stay.
For when the sun comes up again,
They are there with me all day.
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