My Father said I could be anything I want to be. And its up to me to turn my daydreams into realities And typically,I just go with the flow as I paddle streams But now my passion burns like calories for my purpose in this thing called life What position do I play? I'm on a mission every day to decipher what kinda life I should lead. Should I lead? Should I follow. Am I filled or am I hallow? I need water cuz this life has been a tough pill to swallow. Although that begs the question, Who am I? No seriously who am I? I haven't come to a conclusion I need answers But all I have is options. And my heart is always shopping for new identities that need adopting. Cuz I've been the outcast. I've been the jock. I've been the straight shooter. I've run from cops. I feel like an actor but in this scene they took away the props I have nothing to hide behind And here I stand, exposed. Like tan lines Left with the question, who am I? 3 simple words to plan my time And theyre vital My minds on stand by My soul's still idle Titles describe content And I've been a book without a cover asked my father and my mother For assistance or some other kind of help. I'm feeling smothered. By the media. It hovers what I want in front. Another and another and another. I've discovered. Nothing. Who am I? Everything i planed to be hasn't work out. InsanityWebster can't define me You are looking at a jack of all trades Wearing a mask of all shapes Ready to act with no shame It seems my possiblties are endless I could be someone to follow Or someone hardly worth a mention Like twitter I'm bitter because my friends are trend setters and dress better that me. I'm not tendy am I? But I could change And spend my change and dollar bills on fancy thangs And swallow pills Like my friends do. I don't do drugs but I love to pretend to I mean it's hard to turn down what they lend you What they send you. Weekends tend to Be a curious set of days. Friday and Saturday I do it all But by Sunday I'm ashamed of what I did I'm on the fence. And here I sit. I go to church sometimes and each time I ask God to answer the question. Who am I? Does He know? Does he care? Are you listening. Are you there? It only makes sense to ask the Maker why he made what he made. Since we all look different our purposes can't all be the same. I am someone.
An individual. Who's mostly confused and partially spiritual.
Looking to answer this question. Praying the Maker will respond Hoping society will quiet down So I can listen.