Stolen Identity
This is a stolen identity
Because I’m bent on forgetting me
All left is my eyes
And I think their gonna die
Don’t look in, you can see me
I’d rather wear this stolen identity
Exactly what they want to see
I’ve got the lock on the door
Don’t force yourself to love me anymore
You don’t need to
I’m now something new
But its not really me, it’s all for you
He put the stitches on the cut
When she’s perfect, then there’s love
She’s perfect in this mask
Hiding his shame at last
Because without identity goes the past
No, I can’t look up to your eyes
I know I’ve got something else in me
It’s breathing hard, it tries rise
Like the third of a trinity
No, I’ve got this at last
Now I’ve found the perfect mask
And I’ll shake these thoughts with this flask
Because with this failure goes a past
That he never wanted to see
A part that was forced to bleed
But with this identity goes stitches
Though it bleeds, though it itches
But I’m sewn up, strung out, all you’ll ever need
Though these stitches bleed
poem by Kathryn Garner
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Related quotes
Facade (a tritina)
So many have come to dwell behind a panarchy mask
Lost between the delusive dimensions of identity
Unable to perceive that which is deemed real
They dare not throw aside the caparison that veils the real
Lest those that wish to deceive and to mask
Would reveal the abstersive truth of their own identity
Yet if all would but don the verisimilitude of their identity
Then the shadows cast would corrivate into the real
And no longer would there lie merit within a mask
Are you the mask of your identity or are you real?
poem by Sheri Hockman
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Identity Of I
Identity is not what I promise others
Identity is what I do when I am alone
Identity is what I think of others
Knowing all the hatred they've shown
Identity is what every wound reminds me
Identity is what I learn and what I pass by
Identity is what I see in the mirror
After giving my best try
Identity is what I make out of my given chance
Identity is what I accept and what I deny
No one else has control over me
Life is about me, and what I identify
poem by Abhiraj Rajadhyaksha
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Identity of a person
Identity of a person
Identity signifies complexity
Identity identifies with reality
Identity is the bearer of all vanity
How does a person identify with identity?
You define yourself based on what?
They say, they say
You’re kind or moral based on what?
Or
You’re a genius and shrewd based on what?
Or
You make the perfect lover, look for no other
They say, they say
You’re strong without a thought it may not last long
Or
You’ve skills since with a record you run up high bills
Or
You are shy but no one ever talks to you or says hi
Or
You never give up because right now you are on top
They say, they say
You are generous or gregarious when all you are is conscious
Or
You’re innovative yet not the originator of the idea conceived
What are the facts?
That makes your identity intact
When change on identity has the last impact?
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The Lonely Spider
The lonely spider reaches out
For what, you might ask?
If not to spin his web then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
The lonely spider calls out
For what, you might ask?
If not for his mate then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
The lonely spider waits
For what, you might ask?
If not for his food then for what?
For his identity
The identity of him
His identity...
'A spider doesn't have feelings! '
How should you know?
'A spider isn't that smart! '
That could be true.
'A spider can never have a real identity! '
And neither could you, or any of us
But we try to find one even if we're not looking
And thats our life... after which we die
What have we done with our life up until then?
Either we've thrown it away, gave it up, wrecked it, lived it up to the fullest, took it for granted, or got far in it.
We still had one.
It's up to us what we shall do with it
Just like the lonely spider
Who will probably just end up on the bottom of your shoe anyways
poem by Andreanna Atkins
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My Identity
So lost deep inside,
Is all that makes me.
My true identity,
Is hard to see.
To my friends and family,
I’m a different me.
I have a secret identity,
Wonder if you’ll ever see.
My thoughts and actions,
Are all that makes me,
But some things I may do,
May not describe me.
Now look inside me,
If you ever feel,
like it,
I’m no-one but me,
Never hiding my identity.
Don’t say I am hypocrisy,
Because I never showed you,
two of me.
Now please,
Look at me,
Try to see the real me.
I’m no-one but,
my real identity.
All full of beauty,
Inside me.
poem by Yisel Chong
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What 'Fit' Would I Want
Identity?
I've had one for so long.
All my life,
I have lived to perfect it.
I don't get upset with those with none.
Those who prefer to turn away and run...
If confronted!
Identity?
I know who I am without question.
Acceptance I don't seek.
Not from those
Who believe my identity
Might leave others afraid to speak.
Those familiar with others,
Who shuffle along with stances weak.
I have no problem,
Being me and that might offend.
'Too bad! '
'Get over it! '
Nothing else or more is there...
I care to share with them!
What 'fit' would I want,
If that which I enjoy...
Provides me comfort?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Identity
Identity, fragile image of broken mirrors
The start of hope and banished fears
Razor time cuts into the innocence
Fallen gardens of an empires deluge
Travel the stars in moonlit sin
Identity is a strange foreign land
Reflections of solitude beneath the mask
Rainy night pounds with thunder
Identity is an endless hunger
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Me: The thief of my Identity
The thief of my Identity
To my Friends and Family
My true Identity
Is all that makes me
I stole my identity
My personality
What I live for, What I breath for
What I'd fight for, what I'd die for
If not for my soul,
I would be lost once again
For my True Identity has fled me
Fled me for another
It is the dancing shadow you play with,
The beauty you can see in yourself,
And the hostility.
It wants to see you suffer,
It is most content, when you are in despair.
When I can look into my self
and find the real Identity of my inner self,
Until then I will not blame anyone
for my misfortune
poem by Brad Combs
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Masquarade
You and me
Alone in the corner
You took out your mask
And showed me your true identity
You told me everything
From the darkest moment of your life to all your blissful moment
You told me all those little secrets about you which no one knows about
You trust me, you said
And i do trust you
Im mystified
I did try to unleash my mask
And to show you the real me
But i was afraid
I was afraid that you wont accept me
I was afraid that you'll me in darkness
And because of that i tied back my mask
Ive hidden my true identity from you
It feels so wrong
But i dont wanna lose you
Because...
I love you
poem by Kristal Clear
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Your ethnic or sexual identity, what region of the country you're from, what your class is - those aspects of your identity are not the same as your aesthetic identity.
quote by Stanley Crouch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Much Freedom
If we were to stay anonymous
And our need for identity be forgotten
Then life would have too much freedom
And end in its own destruction
For anonymity leads to
Self expression
Of the most extreme
For their freedom fears not
The eternal cell of scrutiny
For their is no face to judge
And confine its uncontrollable
Laugh from the face of mankind
To be free from the curse of identity
Is to be cursed with freedom
For too much freedom
Leads to too much power
And a 'Common Power' at that.
For conflicting ideas
Of freedom and voice
Would choose to eliminate
Hindrances by its own hand
Without the ordered hand of identity
For a faceless man
Is a man without shame
And doth be invisible
For his own expression may threaten
The expression of others
A darkened shade
Placed across the world by total freedom
Will forever mask the anonymous
For their actions can not be traced
To the identity that had given breath to it.
poem by Antoine La Najja
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Is Man A Winner Or A Loser?
Woman has a poof that the child is hers;
Man has no such proof to claim on the child.
She is cool with the child as identity.
He is desperate for his identity.
Identity crisis has disturbed him.
He invented marriage and chained woman.
He imposed chastity to mark his kids
And introduced patriarchal system.
Identity crisis has troubled him.
He assumed control over women.
He retained the progeny in his name
And made concubines to silence woman.
Identity crisis has worried him.
He bottled woman's skill and built up his.
He grew to be a Scholar. Sculptor and Poet
And assigned to woman the entertaining.
Identity crisis has bothered him.
He treated woman as her property.
He acquired family unfailingly
And labourd for its upkeep and status.
Identity crisis has bored him.
Water as she is, man could not cut her.
Tired of heat outside, man needed a shade
And sheltered himself in woman's coolness.
Woman treated man with due sympathy
With no fight with him for identity.
Her child is enough for her identity.
She helped him to anchor himself in her.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Undress me! ! ! ! !
Living under a cover
Hiding me.....
Undress my emotions
I want to break free
The inside clown
Long left the stage
Under his mask
A human disguised
Friend, foe or love
This human decides
Changes identity
Changes faces
Amidst the crowd
Masks to change
How do i select? ? ?
When i've lost the clown......
Humans are not unique
Indeed not
Carrying their masks along
Identical and fake
My lost identity
Glued with masks
Shed me off this burden
Undress me
Undress me............
poem by Royston Serrao
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It's Me! .. and my boyfriend
Hey
Do you know?
I am sick of stick with you!
You, your pretty-cute-handsome face and bunch of your other girlfriends
Always told me what to do!
Can you tidy up your hair?
Can you wear another blouse?
Can you be a little feminine?
I don't want to be your perfect Barbie
I AM real
I can't always be your dream girls
It's me!
Okay, I'm ordinary
JUST a normal schoolgirl
But I have an identity
Identity of who I truly want to be
Yeah, and because of that
We FINISHED
If you never see who exactly I am
It's ME, and I'm proud of that
For a girls who have a FUSSY boyfriend, it's the right time to show who you really are and kick your boyfriend out from your life FOREVER
poem by Belanciequ Frost
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The narrative constructs the identity of the character, what can be called his or her narrative identity, in constructing that of the story told. It is the identity of the story that makes the identity of the character.
quote by Paul Ricoeur
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Identity
Identity
Is the crisis
Can't you see
Identity identity
When you look in the mirror
Do you see yourself
Do you see yourself
On the t.v. screen
Do you see yourself
In the magazine
When you see yourself
Does it make you scream
When you look in the mirror
Do you smash it quick
Do you take the glass
And slash your wrists
Did you do it for fame
Did you do it in a fit
Did you do it before
You read about it
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Identity
Identity
Is the crisis
Can't you see
Identity identity
When you look in the mirror
Do you see yourself
Do you see yourself
On the t.v. screen
Do you see yourself
In the magazine
When you see yourself
Does it make you scream
When you look in the mirror
Do you smash it quick
Do you take the glass
And slash your wrists
Did you do it for fame
Did you do it in a fit
Did you do it before
You read about it
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Right Mask
One night a poem came up to a poet
From now on, it said, you must wear a mask.
What kind of mask? asked the poet.
A rose mask, said the poem.
I've used it already, said the poet,
I've exhausted it.
Then wear the mask that's made out of
a nightingale's song, use that mask.
Oh, it's an old mask, said the poet,
it's all used up.
Nonsense, said the poem, it's the perfect mask,
still, try on the god mask,
now that mask illuminates heaven.
It's a tight mask, said the poet,
and the stars crawl about in it like ants.
Then try on the troubador's mask, or the singer's mask,
try on all the popular masks.
I have, said the poet, but they fit so easily.
The poem was getting impatient,
it stamped its feet like a child,
it screamed. Then try on your own face,
try the one mask that terrifies,
the mask only you could possibly use,
the mask only you could wear out.
The poet tore at his face til it bled,
this mask? he yelled, this mask?
Yes, said the poem, yes.
But the poet was tired of masks,
he had lived too long with them,
he snatched at the poem and stuck it in his face.
Its screams were muffled, it wept, it tried to be lyrical,
it wriggled into his eyes and mouth.
Next day his friends were afraid of him,
he looked so distorted.
Now it's the right mask, said the poem, the right mask.
It clung to him lovingly and never let go again.
poem by Brian Patten
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The kid identity
The kid identity
Look at me,
It is not my true identity,
But when they see the true true me,
I am nothing but a messed up key,
When they see my true identity,
They want to go back to what they thought was me,
But they must not go and see,
Who my true identity could really be,
Just remember I’m my real identity.
By: Colby Selter
poem by Colby Selter
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I hail thee! Woman
Player one, two, three
I hail thee! Woman
Each day it is an awesome task
To cover her face with a mask
A different one she wears each day
A mask of beauty beneath a mask of love
A mask of pain embroided by sorrow
Lifes of loved ones lost
She would gladly like to re-borrow
She is the perfect player
She is the perfect mother
She is the perfect daughter
She is the perfect lover
Player one, two, three
I hail thee! Woman
There she wears her mask again
A mask of conniving sharpness and evil
And a parting deal with the devil
A mask of infinite ideas
And one of fictional loving care
Player one, two, three
I hail thee! Woman
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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