Writing a poem about the authentic me is hard. I don't necessarily know who the authentic me is. 

I change with my environment. Doing my best to fit in.

I'd like to think somewhere deep down my character is good and that I'm kind-hearted and accepting.

But shoot I don't know if that's true or not. Somtimes it sure doesn't seem like that. 

I do care for people and feel empathy for those in pain, but will I act? is the question.

The answer depends on who I'm with, where I am and how I'm feeling.

Pretty messed up if you ask me.

So I guess the authentic me can be pretty flakey.