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Description
They're funny things,
Identities—
Loose constructs of the mind.
Built by others, mostly,
With any scraps of you they find.
Those are the shells around us,
Though inside, we're mostly same,
Muckity-muck of messed-up goo,
Fighting a losing game.
That's the real identity:
The human one, the whole.
That's the honest truth,
Underneath our roles:
We're together in this,
For better or for worse.
We'd best get over ourselves
To overcome our curse.

Description
They're funny things,
Identities—
Loose constructs of the mind.
Built by others, mostly,
With any scraps of you they find.
Those are the shells around us,
Though inside, we're mostly same,
Muckity-muck of messed-up goo,
Fighting a losing game.
That's the real identity:
The human one, the whole.
That's the honest truth,
Underneath our roles:
We're together in this,
For better or for worse.
We'd best get over ourselves
To overcome our curse.