My genuine identity remains obscured

From an intrusive tainted society

That constantly urges to be assured

Of its own perfection and propriety

Though it is blind to the many inured

 

What may my unpretentious self be?

It is challenging to acknowledge

For ingenuity is grim to see  

 

However, my true nature ignores acceptance

It is flawed from deserving perfection

For it rarely surrenders to vengeance

As it faces life with a diverse complexion

 

My natural identity promotes bliss

In which it expresses it in whimsical ways

Such as amorously sharing with nature a kiss

And finding amity in gloomy rainy days

 

This genuine character is permanently curious

Questioning logic and testing its veracity

Never to be intentionally injurious

Yet wishing to change the world drastically

 

What may be thwarting the true me to shine?

Why, it’s the simplest of answers

Fear in its every aspect of mind