Week 12 Post

[chrisoneill]

Truth, Justice and Identity for All

Before I could talk or hold a pen,
I was still me I guess.
But when I was taught to read I then,
only seemed to understand less.

See with each new word that I had found,
defining me became quite tough.
As who I am just became drowned
in words that were never enough.

One day I did have the thought,
that the mystery was all but done.
But this 'me' I had long vainly sought,
was not the only one.

The truth in who I am you see,
this long-elusive prize,
is not defined at all by me
but by someone else's eyes.

This scary thought my mind did greet;
these many different mes.
Beheld by those that I should meet
and judge me at their ease.

So you ask me who it is I am
and with wonderous words I believe I can
answer plain that whoever I may be
is the person you decide to see.