That Which Makes Me What I Am.
One that is indivisible by all
The trials that I seem to struggle with.
Thinking on it now; I put up a wall.
For some reason I hide behind my wall
Keeping personas up to the mirror.
The discorvery of myself is one
My subconscious still keeps from the blank canvas
Which has yet to feel the touch of a brush.
Where I go I wear the small friendly smile
Where I go I see mine own smile returned
Yet when I come back to this room each day
I search for that which I am or could be.
But only now have I realized that I
Am not defined by whom I dream to be
But I am coloured by those I am with
Tie-dyed by the smiles that I love dearly.