We chase after the intangible

Leaving our presence as history

Forgetting to remember that we are in the Now.

And in the midst of each others desolation,

We go forth with our futile attempts to

Define our confinements.

Repeatedly, we gaze at our reflections,

We do not know ourselves

We have never seen ourselves 

Without a single form of distortion

Ask the next stranger you see,

“Who am I?"

And they will not know,

Soon they will wonder, just as you,

“Who am I?”

And I,

A simple-minded being

With limited vision,

An insufficient knowledge of proper grammar;

And tendencies to speak at the wrong moments,

Or simply without thinking,

I suppose I can not tell you who I am

And I will not change.

I will not be distorted,

We are not to be classified.

We run around and about

Attempting to fill an absent void.

Our preconceived notions erasing our own realities,

Like the brain filtering what the eye sees.

Oh, the simplicity of ignorance.

If only our anxieties would define themselves,

Then would you see like I.