I Do Not Know Who I Am

A free verse poem

In the mirror, a face I’ve seen for years
yet unfamiliar, a pallette of questions
etched in lines and shadows, a palimpsest of selves.
Who is this being, wearing my skin?

I am the sum of countless stories,
told and untold, remembered and forgotten,
whispered in the dark of ancestral nights,
shouted from street corners and pulpits.

I am the echo of voices long silenced,
the dream of those who came before,
the hope of those who will follow,
a vessel of histories, personal and collective.

In the margins of time, I seek my name
among the scribbles of half-formed thoughts
and the bold declarations of certainty
that crumble under the weight of doubt.

I am a question mark in human form,
a riddle with no single answer.
A book constantly being rewritten
by hands both gentle and harsh.

Who am I? Perhaps the question itself
is the answer I’ve been searching for.
In the space between knowing and unknowing,
I find the freedom to simply be.