Identityless Poem by Somali Mukherjee

In the midst of a thousand works,

Full of empty and juggling jerks,

I fear to forget who I am;

Am I pure or am I sham?

'Who's this? ' I sometimes wonder;

Amidst manifold tasks, I squander.

I lose my identity;

Amidst pressure and gravity,

I lose my spirit,

I lose life's tidbit;

Where is life, for sure?

Do I care? Do I cure?

I lose my entity, my entity

In the midst of millions of identity.

The manifold facades blur my face;

My smell and smile are hidden in grimace.

Who am I? Who am I?

Identitylessness makes me die.