Enter here, the sign says.
Enter where? I think.
Enter me, or enter you?
Enter him or her?
Be here now,
Is what they say.
Be yourself, they say.
But, I am me,
All of the time.
It is just that
Sometimes I am
Better at it than others.
Sometimes I am me
Being you.
Sometimes I am me
Being him or her or them.
Sometimes I am me
Being it.
Those are the worst times.
When I am being an object,
I am being
The furthest from myself
That I can be,
Even when I’m still me.
Lord,
Help me to not be me,
Being something
Less than human.
Help me to feel,
Sensitively.
Help me to think,
Independently.
Help me to be free
From manipulation
And conformity.
Help me to be true to me.
Stumbling along the sidewalk 
Being me. A Soul set free. This poem resonates with me. So many times people want the expectation of me as opposed to the real me. They want the funny face, joking, comic, happy face me not the real with with all it’s scars, wounds, failures, flaws, sadness and despair. Through it all I remain true to me because that’s all I can be. Anything else is a lie.