There are three of me,
one is who I am,
the other is who I want to be,
and the third is what you think I am,
all three never aligned.
One of me is chained to the past,
constantly trying to break free,
the shadow is heavy,
always following, always reminding, always showing,
what I’m trying to overcome.
The other me is strapped to a conveyor belt,
shaped and molded by foreign hands,
but it’s the loving touch that hurts the most,
that conforms the most,
for to disappoint love is hellish,
rather disappoint the other me.
That me who is free,
who wanders through the dimly lit path,
traversing the unkept road,
broken chains, disfigured parts,
peace at heart, peace with love,
Who I am
trying to find