Who Am I?

 



Each morning I rise with hope in my chest,

Dreams in my eyes, unrest in my rest.
The fears of the world come creeping by,
Still I spread my arms and ask the sky:
Who am I?

I work, I strive, I give my all,
But feel so small when shadows fall.
Tears that no one ever sees,
Lonely moments, silent pleas.
Yet still I stand, arms stretched high,
And softly whisper:
Who am I?

God says, “I’m near,”
People say, “We care.”
But none ever paused to truly stare
Into the storm that lives inside —
They never walked the tears I hide.
And still I stand, arms open wide,
With aching heart,
Who am I? I cried.

People tell me, “Just let it out,”
“Speak your truth, don’t live in doubt.”
But as I start, the looks arrive —
The quiet judgments sharp as knives.
I swallow pain, I mute the scream,
And speak in silence, chasing a dream.
But still I ask with tear-stained eye:
Who am I?

My wounds run deep, my thoughts grow loud,
My spirit soft, yet never proud.
Each door I reach, it shuts with force,
Like fate has led me off my course.
Yet in that dark, where I rely
On just my breath —
Who am I?

At crossroads lost, I search, I seek,
No guiding voice, no hand to speak.
No signs, no stars to light my way,
Just silent nights and haunted day.
But still I stand beneath the sky,
With arms wide spread,
Who am I?

The heart of a human mind, screaming to be heard. — a soul's song from Resilient Reflections

SSP

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