Not to be ..

Not to be,
What's ought to be
Sought to see,
Whats lost in the glee
lots to see ..
hidden in this melee
Lost to see
In whats
Not to be ..
Fought to see,
Whats a naught
A blank blob or a spot ..
Within it yet surmised is a sea
Of all windswept tears
Of the rain melted to flee
A mouthful of sky
An a heartful of sand
A twisted turning road
and
an hour glass
slipping through the hand
A portrait on the wall
and
a rose in the palm dimly lit,
a coy pair of turquoise eyes
and
A set of pale hands
I got to see
what I thought wouldn't ever be ..
And yet when it became
I was still,
not quite free
Holding close to it still
A moment
not any amount of happiness
could fill
Yet quite recovering
from all that
I had to be
In the quest for
the real me ..
Facing a lot of mirrors
not a reflection
yet that I'd choose to be
An identity of me
A reflection
that I lost
and
too grim now to see
Writing was on the wall
and what wouldn't be
just wouldn't be ..
Whats then left to see ..
Is a remainder
of the unbalanced equation
thats dispassionately disproportionate
To a few like you and me ..
Or perhaps
what we then make
Of what we choose to be !

Living amidst all that we have to be
and
all that we get to be
somewhere is lost
what's not to be ..