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.