I’ve worn a thousand faces,
Some I outgrew, some I shed,
A child of wonder, a rebel of fire,
A healer, a dreamer, a soul misled.
Each version a mirror,
Each chapter a song,
None of them wasted,
All of them belong.
For a life is not one story,
But a shelf of shifting selves—
And the beauty is, in living,
We get to rewrite ourselves.