True Self

It’s not easy to know what makes up your identity…

who you are when you are free

Or maybe it’s who they want you to be.

Some don’t get the chance to say, ‘This is ME.’

Some are stopped from living to succeed,

Instead told they must follow

Something far more hollow,

A shell of a person that becomes their today…and tomorrow.

Is it the outer appearance that gives that sense?

The shape and form and tense?

Is it the position held within a fence

of society

Blocked off by conforming ideology?

Is it the things we do

that give us our sense of true

Self?

I know that I don’t wish

To be placed inside a box or a bowl

Like a fish,

Where one must swim round…and around…and around to please

Others whom just sit back with ease.

Don’t tell me to be different than I am today

A person whom is finding their own way

And does not want to stay

In a cage.

If I choose to be your opposing thought

One whom will not be wrought

With fear or wracked with jealousy

Not taught to think what I do not believe,

Even if it is more than the eye can see.

I will remain

One and the same

The person whom looks like me, holds all my heart, and is called by that name.

Claire Connor