For who am I...

Questions and doubts plague me a constant

Every word I spell a chore for I doubt

As I write I edit and delete

Changing them into submission and supplication

For who am I to dare to speak

For who am I to think worthy of being heard

For who am I to dare to voice

For who am I to feel I could

I mimic in misery while fully aware

That the brilliance of me that comes out at times

That makes you see, hear, laugh and may be even respect

Is nothing in truth but my disguise

Of the garment woven craftily from countless personalities

That I see, that I hear, that I read and am in awe of

Of the countless you’ll I constantly try to match and fail

For who am I to dare to dream

That I could truly be me and still matter...