Who am I, or, What am I?
We're most spontaneous for the recognition we require from others,
Known for the masks we equip from day to day life.
The struggle has become so fierce,
to the point that I cannot determine who I am,
the mask has been worn for so long and now I can’t determine what I am.
I think I’ve become a fiend,
the kind of beast that never reveals its teeth.
It has been so long with time and with how I have worn my cover.
That it even seems like I am in a hidden affair with my so called lover.
Who am I? I am believed to be a friend.
What am I? I now know that I’m your end.
Dive under and envision my personality,
and see how I’ve been destined to be.
Everyone really is dazzling in their own way,
we all celebrate our individuality even though it might be grey.
True beauty is in the unseen, no mask, no cover, and no disarray.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
