I Am Myself


I sit here writing this and ponder - Who am I?

Is the life I'm living portraying the actual me?

Am I really the person I think I am, or am I living a lie?

Who am I?

 

I sit here with my friends and ponder - Who am I?

These people know not the real me.

They just see the shell, the cover, and think of me as wonderful.

They know nothing of the storm that rages inside this shell, of the skeletons buried in its closet.

Am I really the person I think I am, or am I living a lie?

Who am I?

 

I walk through the slums and ponder - Who am I?

Am I just another person on the face of this Earth,

Wallowing in self pity and crying over spilt milk.

Or am I one of those who take hold of the reins of their lives and live it fully.

 

As I walk down the empty streets, I realize that I am the latter.

I will make a life of my own, even though the life I live now is a lie.

I am better off with it, than without any life at all.

I am the person I think I am, even though I am living a lie!

I am myself