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?”
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.