To Be Me

Sometimes I think
how nice it would be
if I could be that person for a day.
I would have no worries
and be admired by everyone who met me.

But sometimes their mask slips,
and I see the tears in their eyes.
I see the pain beneath their smile.
Only then do I realize that they don't have it all.

They have trials too.
They feel like giving up and crying.
But they press forward.

Now I know
how nice it is to be me.
No one else living on this planet
knows how I feel.
They don't experience my joy that comes with rain
or the warmth that comes with the smell of chocolate.
They can't tell you the reasons I weave lavender into my hair
or what I think about when the clock strikes midnight.

Because only I know the full mystery that's me.