We often alternate our identity to suit us, lost in other's perceived depiction of us.
Our image often a blur like dust on glass, we all strive to maintain that façade.
Beneath us is a reflection unknown to us, we try hard to glide from one to another
in roles chiseled by history or society, mind or body at times unwilling to go on.
The mind more corrupt than the body, prods us to act and react again and again
and we heed the master's orders until our image screams blue murder.
My forgotten identity queries me after decades of lull and confusion,
Who am I? Daughter, sister, wife, daughter-in-law, mother, friend, colleague.
An arduous conundrum to ponder, do these labels define me,
I can only bear myself when I am enacting these roles,
so is this who I am?
An actor donning various hats, fulfilling job descriptions in each role
My mind meanwhile prods me pointing to a waiting hat, while
my anguished identity still gropes for answers.
