I asked a friend, “Who am I?” The answer confused me. “You are yourself.” So I asked myself, “Who am I?” My answer confused me. “I am who you see.” But not who I seem to be. I am not even who I want. I am not one, but two And I wander between them. So I asked myself. “Who am I?” My answer still confused me Because I am not sure. I have the means, The need and desire To be one and not the other But I stay confused because I lack the courage to be Outwardly who I am inwardly. I blame the public, I accuse society I even offer excuses, to no avail. I must come first and then When I ask myself “Who am I?” I can answer, without confusion. I am but one, the one you see, The one I am now and always will be, A bit of both But outwardly expressing an inner femininity.