Those pictures of me
Are disingenuous images

Blurred from the start
The fuzziness has grown over time

I’m told to see myself
Where can I find a true mirror?

Others say the sounds of me
Are clear and eye-opening

I listen for the sounds inside me
Can sounds ring distinct and genuine

Still much static blurs
The best parts of me

I seek to find silence
To settle into solitude

I engage in deeply
Listening to the uttering of my heart

My heart emits a song
Of the genuine me