Random Poems

Who Am I?

Who am I?

What am I?

We all ask the same questions at some point in life.

To say the least,

I have my ideas.

I have my own thoughts.

I am a human being.

I live on Earth.

I have a family.

I want to be a dragon.

I want to be with a dragon.

I want to see a real dragon.

Yes, that is right.

Dragons are my interest.

But there's more.

I want to fall in love.

Love is so interesting.

I want to be involved with everyone.

But why is it that I can't love?

I mean, I can, but it's difficult.

I love my parents and pets, truly.

Why can I not love anyone else, though?

I say I love the rest of my family.

I say I love my friends.

I do care about them.

But do I really love them?

I don't feel the same way as I do with my house members.

I'm not sure how I understand what's going on.

Maybe I can only want but not have?

Would this be normal?

I thought I loved people.

But once I had them,

I got rid of them.

And what about my dreams?

Why do they involve hopes and terrors?

Why do they purposely fool me?

I wonder why my mind speaks to me.

It tries to deceive me a lot.

It succeeds a lot.

I tried exploring it for answers.

Something refused to let me see too much.

The creature was a giant eyeball.

All I saw was a giant blue walled maze.

The walls had squares all over them.

I thought it was just an odd pattern.

I came to find out what the squares really were.

When an eyeball chased me through the maze,

The squares came out like cubes and tripped me.

The eyeball had taken me back to the first room I woke in.

The room was heavily guarded by many now.

It forced me to see another world and leave my mind.

For now, in my confusion, I'm looking up to my friends.

I'm even looking up to old friends.

I look back to the past and stay in the present.

I've learned how jealous I am of everyone.

I feel like they all know what they're going to do,

Not just what they want to do.

I want to be like them.

But I know better than to copy them,

No matter how tempting it is.

They're special in their way.

I need to be special on my own.

I recognize that.

Though, when offered to join into someone's universe,

I most likely will accept.

I will change and adapt to it.

I will create characters for each and every world.

My inner demons tell me to fit in.

They want me to conquer, not die.

My goal is to be a fighter,

Yet I want to be an artist.

Everything contradicts too much.

This might not sound like a poem,

But I assure you it is.

I created it.