I have been
my father's son;
my mother's son;
my grandparents grandson;
my sister's brother;
my wife's husband;
my children's father.
I have been a child;
a student;
a poet;
an artist;
a teacher;
a parent;
a labourer;
an employee;
a social insurance number.
Now I am wondering where I am?
What is 'me'?
I seem awash in
various labels,
a variety of tags
that have been
attached to me.
Each is a role to play
that supposedly defines
what I am.
Sometimes I want to disrupt
every
identify I am
compelled to play.
Upset the apple cart.
Open my wallet
and
spill out every
piece of paper that
identifies me.
If I throw away my
birth certificate;
does it mean
I have never been born?
If I burn my
Social Insurance Card;
does it mean
I have ceased to exist?
Who am I?
How do I belong in this
mist of roles and perceptions?
I'm not sure anymore
I really know
who I am supposed to be.
Does this mean that I
am nothing?
Nothing, without a
label to purify me?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem