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Poetry: Who am I?

by Karyn B Jules

Finding myself...

A strange and vague concept
this thing we call "self"
Does it really exist?
and if so, where?

No other person on this Earth
sees us as we see our "selves"
To everyone else
we are a conglomeration
of visualisations, responses
to their own experiences of life
pieced together over time
then projected onto a figure
to create a picture

Our own ideas of "self"
will be very different
yet they too are just responses
to our own experiences

So who exactly is this "self"?
Is it simply a figment
of our imaginations?

Or is it the set of responses
that makes us feel the most comfortable
and happy?

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