Our identity is who we are
It defines us as a being
It is unique to our souls
Another way of seeing
But it is not the type of seeing
With your eyes you'll use
It is our own instinct
Determined if we win or lose
Some people say identity
Is just a mere fingerprint
But it is not who we are on paper
That leaves us with a glimpse
Of who we might be
In a time much further ahead
When we may be a pile of bones
Our soul is never dead.
