The real me she has problems so

 I keep her at a distance

That’s why the thought of saying “I”

Is met with some resistance

 

And I agree the real me’d be

Reluctant to reveal

(a certain need and fear of mine

is saying what I feel)

 

This lack of love of self I know

Is apt to make you frown

But I’ll admit the real me

 Didn’t want to write this down

 

But then again, of course I did!

I love to write you see

And words that rhyme are special ‘cause

They form a part of me

 

The real me likes to write things down

A softer form of saying

For me the act of writing

Could be comparable to playing

 

The real me well perhaps she seeks

A channel for expression

And poems like these are opportune

For personal confession

 

So here the role of words is to

Provide elaboration

To briefly summarize

My many feelings of frustration

 

“I’m fine” “I’m good” I’m gauging what

It is you want to hear

I speak it hoping inwardly

It sounds good to your ear

 

Please don’t believe I aim to lie

That’s not completely true

But people pleasing’s dangerous

The habit sticks like glue

 

The real me struggles to admit

The thoughts she really feels

She words them in third person

And by doing so conceals

 

The real me’s me, I know she is!

I scarcely dare to say it

Perhaps a bit of poetry’s

The best way to convey it

 

The real me’s not a selfie, duh

There’s more to life than fad

But thinking that the real me’s not afraid

Is just as bad.