My face is seen through eyes that do not see,

Opinions or judgement, anger or jealousy.

They form their own truth, they make themselves believe,

That i am something less than what i know to be.

A first impression, a bad impression,

Who are they whom think they sit on a throne.

If they look to the mirror, no perfection to see,

They only know my name, they do not know of me.

A story they tell amongst themselves,

They do not stand and face me.

It is only heard by my ear from breath to breath,

They only know my name, they are known to me.

Keith Garrett