Thinking of the nicknames I’ve worn
from the first one practically given at birth
to the few I’ve chosen for myself in jest
to the few I’ve been called out loud by others.
Were there ones I never heard, and still have not?

Wondering if any of them were close enough
to being my true name, one I should have worn
with pride and grace. A name I should have held
close and waved now and then as my banner
in battle, grief, and celebration. Wondering

if any of the ones I do not know
are more fitting, are more me 
than any I have gone by so far,
and is it too late to take on a new one?
Would I even be proud to wear

the closest fitting name?
Would I hang my head to know
that this was who I was, or would I 
instead retreat into the falsehood 
of the name I preferred? 

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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