You are You

Because this assignment contains 'inside-jokes,' references that only people in the group to which it was read would understand, i thought it necessary to explain them, so as to avoid confusion.
1) our writing group was named 'The Class Menagerie'
2) our professor was known as Kangaroo (it's a long story).
3) The title: "You are You" was the result of our small group establishing a common theme toward which we were all to write something, poetry, prose...
Our common theme was a piece of grafiti entitled "You are You."
4) The premise for my piece was an internal conflict. I did not want to stand in front of a room filled with my fellow students and professors and bare my soul. I tried to be excused, but my professor would have none of it. I had to write something, why not write about my feelings of stage-fright.

                                                 

                                            You are You

You are you. That makes sense.
I suppose that it's true.
It sounds like me, and it looks like me too.
But the problem I have, what you cannot see
Is there's more than one you lurking inside of me.

Now, one of the yous, the one deep within me
Is not the you that all of you see.
This you that you see is nothing like me.
This you's an assignment.
A you forced upon me!

The you that is me, the you you can't see
Is scared shit-less right now and is weak at the knees.
That you would be happy to run off and hide.
That you is the you that likes staying inside!

But that's not an option for the you that is me.
I must suffer with this you; the you you all see.
I must stand here and do this. What else can I do?
This menagerie's ruled by one mean kangaroo.
I couldn't refuse, and to cry was no use,
So I ran to the doctor: the good Doctor Seuss.

"I can help you two yous." He said, rubbing his chin.
"Two yous is no problem." He waved us both in.
"Why, I once knew a cat with many more yous.
There's no problem with yous that come only in twos.
But in order to help you must tell me what's wrong.
Why it is that the two of you can't get along."

"It's this stupid assignment!" Said the you that is me.
"I can't do this!" I said to the you you all see.
"I like it!" Said he, with a lopsided grin.
"I'll have a ball, while you cower within.
Why, I'll read and I'll rhyme, I know just what to do.
I'll do this myself.
I do not need you!"

"Now, now." Said the doctor. "Calm down you two yous.
I know what you need now. I've got some good news.
There's a way to get through this if you'll only comply.
All you need is some weed,
And then get really high.
Do like I do when life seems out of control.
Kick up your feet. Fire up a big bowl."

"Fill it up. Pack it tight. Then take a long pull.
Hold it in till your eyes pop right out of your skull,
And then do four more hits just like the first one,
Then go out there and wow-em kids.
Now go have some fun.
With some weed and a lot of fun words to read,
You will find you have everything that yous need."

So, we did. We went and did just what he said.
Now we're wasted. Fucked up! Look our eyes are all red.
But we did it. We managed to get through this hell,
And the you that is me has come out of his shell.