True

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna

They'd call me a board, they'd call me a wall,"

But I love it when they stop and stall.

I hope they do think it's true,

my dusty smile, stuck with glue.

I have the clothes, I have the hair,

a heart of wood, a chest so bare.

My wooden eyes in the mirror they see,

the human I was meant to be.

Sometimes I watch as the humans stare.

I make my frown. This isn't fair.

I would cry

if wood weren't dry.

They were made human,

why wasn't I?

"It's fine, it's fine, I look the same."

drawn on emotions, sealed with a name.

The only time I remove my cast

is when a lover walks on past.

He is the one who sees my lies,

for I can't put love in my eyes.

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna