WHO AM I

As I look around ,
It becomes more profound
I am lost, myself cannot be found
This path I have chosen,
Was already written,
Created, designed and woven.

So, why should I feel,
My life is just a reel,
Spinning slowly from a wheel,
To reveal, what I try so hard to conceal

I have come to realize
The words of the wise
Haunt me to rationalize, my decisions
Stabilize my emotions
And criticise my actions

This life, this circle, this abstraction of existence
Has been given to us once
With food as sustenance,
Religion as governance
And fear for resistance
To keep me in balance
As a reminder to check,
Take time to reflect,
On what I cannot control
That which I cannot change
Yet part of my whole
All out of my range

Daily I exist,
Never really trying to resist,
Taking time to revisit
The non-entity for which
I have become,
The vessel that operates,
Stimulates and emulates a response

Yes, I still cannot be found,
At least not my physical compound,
Not by my vocal sound,
Not by any hunting hound,
Or where my footprints marked the ground
And no, this is not an insanity plea
Just me, searching for who is really me.
Because I am still, somebody.
By Clarine Stewart