I am like a banshee wailing desperately in warning,

whose call is heard but never heeded;

 

The tide, who forever grows in courage,

only to retreat back in fear of the unknown.

 

I am a mountain, constantly growing, crumbling with the earth and its surroundings;

 

A crack in the curb viewed as an imperfection, a nuisance, an out of place burden that must be fixed.

 

I am like Donkey overlooked and underestimated but always faithful to the ones I love most;

 

I am the snowdrop flower sprouting from the snow;

caressing the air with its sweet fragrance and thriving when all else is frozen;

 

A cool fog rolling over a serene lake, hiding, taunting you with the mysteries I keep hidden.

 

I am not a wisp of smoke in the air bound to dissipate,

 

Nor a human copied, pasted, and programmed to fit into society.

 

I am not furious at anyone in particular, just at the injustices of the world.

 

I am not Tom who bounds toward trouble like a hound eager for the hunt;

 

Nor am I a glowing rod straight from the embers of a fire.

 

I am not Hamlet destined for tragedy at the pen of Shakespeare;

For I am my own author with pen poised to decide my own fate,

 

 

I am not the deceitful deity Apate who blossoms with the suffering of others,

No, I am the Greek Goddess Eos who brings hope to the newfangled day of tomorrow.

 

I am me.