I Am

I Am

I am an adult,

A confused adult.

I am a confused adult who is lost in this world of boxes.

How am I to know who I am?

Childhood is what shapes us, what makes us who we are.

Shouldn’t I know who I am? I am no longer a child.

A childhood of lies makes for quite the lost adult.

Did I choose this music, fashion, humor, based on who I am?

Do I enjoy my choices because those who shaped my childhood would cringe?

I feel emotions based on the way I was raised.

I cringe when I see a scantily clad woman.

I argue when someone says that God isn’t real.

Do I believe in these ideas?

 

I was raised as an outsider, an outcast who dressed and talked strangely.

I tried to fit in.

I became who I thought the world wanted me to be.

Then, I became who I knew my parents would despise.

I do not know the person that I pretend to be.

My personality, my emotions, they’re a lie.

I created this persona.

I made myself to fit in the boxes that society deems acceptable.

I forged my character to embrace the labels.

Is this me?

I think not.

My entire life is a lie.

Who am I?

Reviews

[beach0324]

Is the poem about you good Job though if it is