Being Someone Else

I’m wearing
someone else’s smile
teeth that don’t fit
in this mouth
that can’t speak.

I’m not OK. OK?
don’t ask me anything else
because I’m not myself
I don’t know why,
I couldn’t say.

I’m striding
around town, out of step
in someone else’s shoes,
laughing clown’s feet
that don’t fit my mood.

I’m driving
someone else’s car
on the wrong side of the road
going round the bend
meeting myself coming back.

I’m feeling
someone else’s pain
it’s more than mine
it’s all in the mind
I picked up by mistake.

please don’t ask me
again today because
I’m just not myself
I’m busy, too busy
being someone else.

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