Title: Who Am I? Poem by ashok jadhav

(The speaker paces or stands in front of a mirror, gesturing at their reflection as if arguing with themselves. Their voice shifts between anger, despair, and pleading.)
Monologue:
Who am I? Tell me!
Because I've looked in every mirror, walked every street,
tried every mask, and I still… I still don't know.
I wear the faces they want me to wear,
the words they want me to speak,
but inside… inside it's chaos.
I am nothing.
A hollow shell filled with expectations,
a ghost of someone else's dreams.
I try to stand tall, to be proud…
but every step feels like a lie.
I hear their voices, their judgments, their approval…
and I crave it, desperately.
But the moment it fades, I am left…
left with myself.
And I hate what I see.
Am I weak? Cowardly? Useless?
Or am I just… human?
Does it matter? Does it even make a difference
when the world only counts what you do,
not who you are?
I want to scream.
I want to tear this skin off and find…
something real underneath.
Something worth keeping. Something worth being.
But the more I dig, the more I find…
emptiness. Doubt. Fear.
A voice whispering: You are not enough. You never will be enough.
And I fight it… I fight it every day.
I put on a smile, I speak, I move, I survive…
but inside, I am crumbling,
piece by piece, until one day
there might be nothing left but the echo of a life
I never truly owned.
(Pauses, voice softening, almost a whisper to themselves.)
Who am I? I don't know…
But I keep searching. I have to.
(The speaker sinks slowly, clutching their reflection, torn between despair and a fragile glimmer of hope.)