Sometime I wonder who I really am.
Do I know myself?
Does she know the real me?
Is there a real me?
These questions and more flood my head.
I have no answers.
Just a blank slate in my mind.
Nothing to help with these thoughts.
Self destructive as they are.
Today could be the day.
I am scared of myself.
Of what I would become.
If I didn’t falsify who I am.
My entire life is a fabrication.
Stories made up on a whim.
They have been told so many times.
That I myself believe them.
Unable to tell reality from lies.
Or maybe I refuse to see the line between.
Afraid of the me that is there beneath.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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The first stanza reads like a paragraph or story than a poem. I couldn't find a meter but thats not always the intetion. The language was easy to read. I felt it finished strong. Good job!
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I think it's okay...I liked the message in it..a message we all understand......
Keep your poetry coming..
XXJeannette
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Very good!
You are poetry in progress
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