Window Dressing

What everyone see of us,
as we walk down the street,
is merely window dressing,
for what lies beneath.
Sometimes the ragged exterior,
holds something warm deep inside.
Sometimes we look older,
than what we really are.
No matter how people see us,
we know who we are.
Young at heart
and happy to be alive.
The rest is merely window dressing,
for our part that we play.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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