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Who I am, according to myself.

By Justa PoetPublished 8 years ago 2 min read

4/8/18

For the longest time I’ve battled my identity

For it’s a trick to the mind

A struggle in which we are told

That we must prove our worth

By defining who we are

It’s, um, rather all complex

So for now,

I can say that I am

An intricate word scramble yet

A simple stroke of a paintbrush

I’d like to say I understand

Heck, wouldn’t everybody?

But in reality I don’t

At least right now I think I don’t.

There is one thing for sure that I can comprehend;

Not every puzzle piece in the box has a slot in the board

Your thoughts and ideas will not always fit the intended view

And that’s okay

Diving deeper into who I am

I start to wonder

Wonder why I am a bug inevitably stuck in a web of emotional being

Why I often find myself crying

When my feelings cloud my vision and my blue skies

Get drenched with overbearing precipitation

But hey, that’s life

So this is the part where I look ahead

Only to see my future being guided by a powerful movement

Stemmed from my generation and their uplifting voices

Illuminated by the touch of heaven and the grasp of

Warm light by my ancestors

Along the way I made a conclusion

I pretend too much

I hide behind a mask

I think I know what my direction in life is

But yet, here I am, chasing the crossroads

Until a train of someone else’s purpose passes by

All I want in life is to find genuine happiness

When walking in a field of sunflowers

Maybe that train will take me there,

Or maybe not.

Back to square one

I am an intricate word scramble

Yet a simple stroke of a paintbrush

Stuck in a daze

Dreaming of a life for others

Free from sunken chains of regret and sorrow

That boasts with ribbons of met desires

Maybe that’s what I need

Should I try to explore various cultures and traditions

To connect with the diversity of the world?

Please answer

It’s not rhetorical

I feel as though there is reasoning behind every given answer

Sorry if I’m too abstract

And sorry if I apologize too much

I just worry

Worry when I’ll be the one in charge of my own decisions

Worry when I don’t have confirmation from companions

Sorry.

Oops, I said it again

I hear you I really do

A steady heartbeat

Thump, thump, thump

The rhythm of my life

Thanks for reminding me to be grateful

To be part of something bigger than myself

We’re backtracking now

Remember when I said I pretend too much?

Well not only that but,

I speak too much

I say to only speak kindly of others

And to radiate positivity

However I’m a hypocrite

To my own words

I’m an intricate word scramble

Yet a simple stroke of a paintbrush

Deja vu

I need structure

No you don’t

Stop contradicting yourself

Sorry.

Hopefully one day you can see me

Well, for me

Through my looking glass

For one last time

I promise I won’t be a hypocrite

I am an intricate word scramble

Yet a simple stroke of a paintbrush

‘Defined By You’

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About the Creator

Justa Poet

I'd like to keep who I am a secret, just as I'd like to keep the intended meaning behind my poetry a secret. Let your minds wander to new places as you adventure through my works (:

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