I wonder if the world will ever see me for me,
or even for who I am becomming.
I don't want them just to see my face,
or even my race.
I just want them to see me.
It's not that hard if you do it daily,
but it will be if you wont try.
Is it too much to soon ?
They just see the size of people,
they call them ballons.
Well, go ahead, blow me up.
I'll never care what you say,
I know what wanders behind all lost eyes.
A soul waiting to break free of these walls.
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
thank you, I suppose the balloons part is confusing. Sorry for that, I merely men't people only look at the size of things.
I kinda liked the ending. I am sorry that I didn't have much more to say.
Good luck, keep writing.
Silente1.
This poem relies on the idea that there is something (presumably, the same soul that is named at the end) that can physically be seen by literally looking past a person's face/race/eyes.
The speaker says at the beginning "I wonder if the world will ever see me for me" and that seems to be the question she'll answer by the end. By the end, however, I'm not sure what that answer is, past the fact that she has subjectivity as a soul. In most poems, that is enough, but in this poem, that same subjectivity is established at the beginning, but not really expanded throughout the poem. Rather, the middle seems like a detour to get to the end, which then seems like the beginning of a much larger argument.
All this is to ask: how does the speaker see herself? By stating this, can she change how I see her too? I guess I'm just looking for more out of this poem.