Who Am I? Poem by Jedida Oneko

Who am I?
I do not recognize
those half closed eyes
Staring back blankly,
through my cracked mirror.
That crooked smile is not my own
But of those now passed
And for those to come.

Who am I?
I ask into the void within
For I am not that panel beaten soul
Snugly fitting into societal polls

Am I not that spirit
Bursting through the seams
Of bleached, starched and pressed shirts
Whose legs are those? Mine?
Crossed just so, piously
Ensuring I do not crease
My pin stripe linen pants

Who am I?
I ask to a silent universe.
Who am I if not a meandering stream
Flowing wherever the bends may lead.

I am not that brain
Tamed and trained to linear thoughts
Nor that bird in flock
Clipped wings, blunt beak
Floating forlornly,
to a passionless prison
bearing my dead weight
into the mass grave of stifled dreams.

I know who I am to them
Successful in servitude to societal laws
A figment of their failed ambitions
Funneled through their hopes
Burdened in earthly bait.

In their fearful eyes,
Flanked by my brood
I am complete in a benz and bungalow.

But when I look within
I cannot help but wonder
Of that dimming lamp
That once blinded the sages.

Am I that lengthening shadow,
Cast carelessly, East to West?