Notes About The Poem
Who are you?
Fake Me Is Better Than Real Me
It’s odd how we all have a persona,
An image we’d like others to see.
My emotional clothing, my charm and charisma,
It’s nice but it’s not really me.
The real me, my hinterland, the me of me, the “who” that I am,
Isn’t defined by any professions.
I’m not defined by my job, nor my house, nor my clothes.
I’m not defined by any possessions.
Possessions show that I’m cool, calm, I’m collected.
Always seeking a classy sort of style,
But on the inside the thoughts in my head go crazy,
Like an untamed deranged juvenile.
Always overthinking random stuff of conversations I’ve had.
Had years ago with my peers.
Thinking the best, then contemplating the worst,
Battering myself with debilitating fears.
I hide these fears behind fake actions, fake clothes,
Fake talk and a fake phrase.
Convinced that a fake me is better than me,
For now and the rest of always.
Entered into "Who ARE you?" contest by Catie Lindsey 4/30/2016 , ranked First place
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