Who am I? Just a man with years of scratches and wrinkles in my hands
Remolding the pot with clay and tears that mysteriously held my plans
Feeling reminisces of a star, rolling like a high-powered car
Speeding out of control threatening to roll destined not to get far from who I am
“Who am I?”
Just a man with pride, which was swallowed but not killed
Anger filled and strong willed “Only to God have I kneeled”
But even then I looked up which is the only way when you’re down
In a dark room I sat with only the sounds of large buildings falling down
To the ground pounding the valley inside my chest
Taking my breath away as I try to rest for the next test of who I am
“Who am I?”
Just a victim of circumstances, one leaf in a whole pot of greens
The temple of coincidental happenstance echoed by a warriors scream
Of war and peace, of joy and pain,
Of love and hate, a soldier’s aim
Hoping for a victorious conquest just a man who has given a mediocre attempt at his best
But still blessed to be who I am
“Who am I?”
I am the he of the them, the him of the they
I am the tip of the limb, the reason I pray
I am the light of day the dark of night
I am the hopes and dreams of an endless fight
I am the result of a mistake and part of the plan
I am a beautiful attempt at the image of God, just a man
I am who I am and what I am
Simply because I am yes, I am
“Who am I?”