Imposter

There are days I wonder...

If I am nothing but a pretender,

wearing a mask of diligence, 

to live my life as an imposter.

The thoughts, and impulses,

shadow of my hidden desires,

all have contrary indications,

to the characteristics I aspire. 

Is it all a sham ?

The feelings and emotions,

dreams that I am chasing,

to find my satisfaction.

And I would soon realize,

the futility of false rides,

regretting the choices made,

when left with emptiness. 

Still I have hopes,

that there are ways of finding truth,

even if I don't always practice,

the words I would preach

We all have different thoughts, 

some we speak, some kept secret,

for, once they were found,

it would break the image we created.

In that sense, aren't we all imposter?