So you ask me who I am,
As if I really know,
As if I could be just one person,
Part of the status quo,
One person is not really one,
Especially at this age,
There are so many of us now,
Asking liberation from their cage,

The truest of them is the truest heart,
The one that gives but receives not,
The one only my best friend knows,
The one that seldom gains, but grows,
The one that’s hidden by neurosis and risk,
The one that’s buried by a flash and a click,
The cameras, the people, the solitary shame,
All the expectations that come with my name,
The one that’s quieted day by day,
Shut down by anger and thrown away,
The one that struggles day and night,
Loving even the adversaries’ might,
The heart knows the fight is not yet lost,
And also knows the fearsome cost,
The heart refuses to give in,
But choses to love, rather than win,

Death may stop a beating heart,
But a loving one will endure,
For even from beyond the grave,
A love stays still and sure,
So my heart may be stopped from beating,
Today, tomorrow, evermore,
And when it stops, the others of me,
Will be silent as the heart was before,

But the heart will endure, the heart will remain,
The love is the truest of me,
It will speak, it will have it’s reign,
And it will be forever free,

And so this is my truest self,
The heart that beats for all,
Quite often it will remain quiet,
But unlike the others, it will not fall.