MYK

I'll dig until I find myself

Under layers of deceit

And then build upon it all again

This pattern, I'll repeat



My identity is messy

It'll stick to you like glue

In a couple months, you might be me

And I'll be someone new



For I am a Phoenician

And I'll borrow things from you

And mix and match them with the rest

To make a motley stew



And though it may be frowned upon

I am nothing less than proud

After all, it is not I

That wears your dismal shroud