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A question to you allA question to you all,Am I…Really human?As they say I am,Am I…Really alive?As my heart races with passion,Am I…Really, young?As I appear to be,What am I…Actually;Rather than,A sticky note across my face,Describing random words about my worth?What am I…Actually;Other than,A name and a face to judge upon?What am I…Really?What am I?Who am I?Where am I?What is…I?Am I an individual?A fill in?A substitute spirit?Or a reckless human being with an anger management problemWhat am I?Really…Is a question,I leave for you all,To answer.
Remembrance of a second pastTo StareAt the locked recesses,Of my closed mind,And guess…Behind that closed door,Of lost dwellings, of a pastI dare not remember,For IWould be physically gone
These LinesStaring at my lines,I wonder…Where they end,And…Where they connect,What is it,That attracts me too…These lines…These lines..These lines,On my hands