ego and superego

the sound of my name is a thing that i hate
it's my sole inheritance the one thing left
by my father without it i would be bereft
and so i suppose it is my weary fate
to bear it to pass through each daily gate
wearing it on a lanyard with little heft
but still there, still part of the total weft
that is my life it is who i am i must state
and yet this label this graphic mark
is not my self though it's what others know
it claims to be a whole but is not part
it is not there when in the warm dark
i sleep and wander where all sleepers go
but every day it finds me like a dart