Your Self (Or Perhaps A Lack Thereof)

by Mercury, age 15, from US

Some people venture through life never knowing who they are
They wear plastic smiles
And the expectations of society.
They want to be the norm
And who can blame them
We live in a world where being unusual is to be untouchable.
But the norm is rarely who we really are
Just as the middle is rarely where we are.
Just as no one really has 2.2 children
Or 0.5 of a dog for that matter.
Yet we run from ourselves
And masquerade in preconceived images
In hope that someday we will become those images,
Or that we'll meld flawlessly with those masks.
But one day, when you're ready,
Or perhaps one day when you're not,
You'll find it waiting.
The entity that is your true
Self Waiting tenatively at a street corner
Hoping to be discovered.