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Poem

In a cityscape of azure crowns, a labyrinth unfolds,  
A cartography of expectation, where my narrative is born.  
Wrap yourself in anticipation and aspire to be among.
I wear as they wish, but underneath I know not right from wrong.

On affection's stage, I act my part, a mimic in the play,
Mimicking the lines and cues that are the current rage.  
I offer up the final bite, let others pass me by,
A humble guise, it seems, yet hides a dormant silent cry.

How to measure joy when scales are not my own?
In a world that gazes outward, where is my cornerstone?
A script I mistook for fate, a role that never fit,
A character in someone else's play, I finally admit.

Decades passed, a lifetime's half, to turn my sight inside,
To unearth the truths not found without, but in my own divide.
We're molded clay and woven past, a blend of gene and year,
Yet in this mortal tapestry, a tranquil truth is clear.

A soul, a core, a nucleus, a compass in the fray,  
Leading me to unspoken joys that words can't quite convey.  
A fleeting love affair with this moment, a liaison with the now,  
A spark of elation in defiance with the why and how.

In this revelation, I find my voice, an anthem of my heart,
A repressed refrain, a silent hymn, now yearning to depart
No more charades or adopted mantles, no more deception to conspire. 
I've unearthed my essence, regained my breath, I ignite my spirit's fire.

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