Who are you really?
A question I ask over and over,
Trying to peek behind
This mask or that,
You telling us
We see only the shell you occupy
Though at times,
I think I catch
The real you,
Peering out,
Those big eyes of yours
Unable to contain
Who you are
Until you catch yourself
Drag closed the curtain
Behind which you hide,
We all need to control our destiny
Tell our own story
But we can’t always
Stop others from telling
Stories we don’t’ wish to hear
Who are you really?
What do you really want?
Do you know who you will be tomorrow,
or even who you were?
We build our lives
With mundane details,
Limbs stretching wide
From a trunk leaves struggle to hide,
Exposed most when the cold comes,
And stand naked at a time
when we need cover most,
keeping secret things
by which others might judge us.
Who are you? What do you want?
Do you even know?
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