I once was. I am Brian. I am to be.
I am to be many things that I never was.
I am to be parts of the people that I'll come to love
How did I become and how should I know?
How am I to decide where and how to go?
I was few of words and now I am not.
I was many of feeling and many of thought.
Words whispered meaning and so I gave them a home
On the paper by a pencil they knew not but by an eraser they've known.
And what's left are few words but the ghost of what's lost
It's everything I was but now I am not.
Poetry found a life in the page that I gave
The discrepency between now and my grave.
I am to be so many things and so many more I won't.
But I'm the discernable past of words I'll use 'cause I won't.