Who are we really?

Who are we? Who are we really?

We put on those brave faces, the tough faces, the pretty faces. But is that really who we are?
Make up may cover the blemishes, but not the truth. A mask we portray.

Confidence, often we hate those cocky and so sure of themselves. But really, are they?

Are they secretly insecure, so UNsure of themselves they can barely contain it?

Who are we really.

Many people have surprised me, and its often those I never thought I could ever be surprised by. But I guess thats what a surprise is.

Those that we assume, lack knowledge and understanding, are sometimes the ones with the most sense. Through my experiences, the people that are commonly brushed aside are some of the most loyal and understanding individuals I have met.

Smoke it up, Drink it down.

These are not morals I support; a lifestyle I would choose.

But we all have our demons, are secretive ways to cope with the pain and distraught.

Who are we to judge that the right way to deal with what we feel,

Some drink, Some smoke, Some cut.

Who are we, to disapprove of pain.

The ones that appear to have it all, the looks, the abilities and the social status.

The ones their peers strive to be, an image, is an image. Simply an illusion.

They dream of being more, they wish to be so much less then they are, we all have our beliefs of who we are, despite how we present ourselves to the world.

Myself, I would say, I have no clue who I am.

People see me in a light, I don't see myself.

A beautiful, intelligent and unlike anyone else; I see myself, as normal, an average, who is klutzy and a lot of passion for what I believe in.

I don't have myself put together, with my procrastinations and unsureness.

I get emotional and upset at what I can not understand.

I understand my negative sides, the positive I only look past in disbelief.

Who are we really? The appearance or the core, I suppose it is a bit of both, only what we are and who we choose to be is the clash and the disbelief.

Who are we really, think about it for yourself. The 'It' girl as she strolls down the hall with her fake tan and designer jeans, or the 'Stoner' walking with swagger, a smoke behind his ear.

Who are they behind the image, and their own insecurities and their realities.

Lets step back and breath, we all have blood running through our veins, and the heart beating in our chest. Made of the same parts, We are all not that different from one other.