Self & Identity Poem by ashok jadhav

Beneath the masks I wear for eyes to see,
A quieter self stirs, waiting to be known;
It moves through doubts, through fear and memory,
A hidden flame, unclaimed, yet fully shown.
I am the sum of choices, scars, and dreams,
A tapestry both frayed and brightly spun;
The world may shape me more than it redeems,
Yet still I learn what cannot be undone.
In mirrors, silence, and in whispered thought,
I seek the voice that speaks beyond the noise;
A self untouched by what the world has taught,
Alive in shadow, still, with tender poise.
Identity is neither fixed nor free,
But something grown through knowing—and through me.