The mind is reptilian in nature
Shedding its skin each passing day

The hollow remains seem that of someone else
Where they haven't changed, but we know they're not the same.

We slither around in our new found skins
Slowly adapting to each situation
Forever shedding to meet need after need
Sometimes to a point when we bleed

Our skin my shed and our colors the same
But some of us change skin so much we forget our names.