So if I was raised
by two loving parents
and grew up
like any other kid could
I wonder
where it is
I have gone wrong.

Am I flawed?

Am I
a misrepresentation?

Am I?

A shattered and broken vase
never to live up to
my designed intentions?

To assume my destiny
is also premature.

To simply look in my direction
and place me into any group
is a definition by ignorance.

Who I am
is defined by the sum of all things
that have made me myself.

It isn't a desire
to fit gently
as a check does
into a certain box.

I want to know
what my purpose is.

My identity is hidden
in the shadows
to even me.

Am I blind
to the building blocks?

Am I ignoring
who I should be
based against
what I want to be
or worse hope;
that which has no chance
of becoming real?

Sometimes I think
I was born into the wrong time
while others pondering
if there is a time
I could ever fit into.

I am definitively me,
but who am I?

09/01/2012

Posted on 09/01/2012
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