Time May Tell

Pondering the obituary poetry prompt (but I chose ocean) I want to write a poem Express the who of I am But that's why I write poetry Because it's not something I can I like to think I'm gentle Thoughtful, nice and sweet But feedback suggests also awkward Keep me out of the hot seat I toy with being intellectual But without the background knowledge So maybe it's the pseudo kind Even though I went to college Some photos paint me pretty Whilst mirrors are unkind My friends say lots of nice things True perspectives hard to find I emote and empath left and right Feelings whirled in a spin Then suddenly feel numb Can't decide what mood I'm in It's something I'd like to figure out But maybe can never know I flicker in and out of view Unsure if it's the real me on show Writing about self discovery Isn't that conceited? If that's the answer in the end Then I'm just defeated Entity isn't easy to define It's edges, angles, light and shade The shifting sands beneath your feet From focus to shadow to fade Do I reveal to myself as I write Or weave more blank than known Only today's truth I can tell As nothing yet is set in stone