Known

Known

They say I'm known, a face in every crowd, A name called out, a story oft retold. Yet deeper currents flow beneath the loud And unseen channels where my truth is held.

The laughter shared, the favour freely given, The familiar nod, the well-worn jest— These mark the surface, but not what's driven By quiet thoughts I keep within my chest.

For what is truly mine remains unspoken, A inner world where no gaze can intrude. The known self is a token, merely token, While depths unexplored retain their solitude.

So let them think they know the measure of me: I am the unknown, and that is where I'm free.