Why do we do
The things we do?
Why do we say
The things we say?
Why do we feel
The things we feel?
The things we do,


And say,



And feel,
Need to be truly ours
But are they ours,
Or someone else’s?
Like some surrogate
Walking in our place;
Doing, feeling, saying for us.
We are not ourselves-
Never ourselves-
Unless we can do


And say,



And feel,
What we truly believe.
These are the things
That make us, us.

Every guy wants
To be that guy
The guy who is cool,
Who is smart, but not too smart,
Who always seems to be flirting,
Who just is, well,
Cool.
They want to be that guy;
And they will sacrifice their real identity,
Who they really are,
To be that guy

The goth, the emo,
The outcast.
The quiet one, the dark one,
The one who keeps to themselves.
But who are they, really?
A depressed, hateful adolescent
Who nobody ever loved?
Some cases yes,
Most cases no.
A person who wants attention
And the only way to find it,
Is to dress the part
Of someone
Who needs it.
Wait, what?
I don’t get it.
Slow down!
The typical laments of the
Cool-to-be-dumb student
Acting stupid
To be popular
But where will their popularity,
Their stupidity, in fact
Take them?
To the best schools feasible?
The best lives attainable?
Certainly not.

Do we feel and think and say
For others’ respect?
Too often, yes.
Everyone does it
Once in a while
To get that girl
To make that friend
To be that person
But we should like people
For whom they truly are
But alas, we cannot
Unless they show their true self.
We all need to start doing,
Feeling,

Saying,
For ourselves;
To show who we are
On the inside.