As Good as a Holiday?

		This is wrong.
		I am not supposed to be this way.
		Am I?

		My life has always made some sense,
		But now I cannot understand,
		Sometimes not even recognise,
		Those who were supposed to be
		My ever empathetics. 

		They all look at me,
		Expecting something different,
		Something more.
		Maybe somebody different,
		Somebody more.

		They re-enter my life,
		Then exit as soon as they see clearly:
		They do not want me,
		They want the man who used to own my face.

		I no longer know these people,
		I have changed since the first parts of our lives 
		Were acted out together.

		It all makes me wonder:
		Is it wrong?
		Is this my life?
		If not, then where is it?
		What is it?
		Who am I?

		I can stay with these people no longer,
		They make me feel that I have been left behind.
		Maybe I have left them behind.
		I do not know.
		But our lives are separate now.
		We can reminisce about each other as we were then,
		When we were of the same town:
		The same life,
		The same dreams.

		I will move on,
		To find a place
		Where there are people 
		Who understand what I have become.

		Who am I?
		I think now: 
		That one is easy,

		I am Me.