On a journey,
Without reasons,
Conforming to the changing seasons,
Flowing like a great song,
Thoughts of things grow ever long,
Mountains passing,
Some dreams crashing,
While others come to birth.

Souls have toiled,
And wrought, and fought,
And thought with me,
But I have changed,
And grown around them,
Like a tree grown twixt a house,
Like a fighter looking for open skin,
Unchanged by them,
But yet still changed,
I have changed by changing myself.

I am a rough sketch of my influences,
My mother, father, and teachers,
I am a catalogue of memories,
They have shaped me from clay,
And in even just one day,
I could be shaped again,
But not today,
I’ve decided to harden.

Now I shape myself,
What I will become is my choice,
I want to be me,
Not a version of me for someone else,
A version of me I stand for.
A version of me that is my mind,
My mind’s eye, myself as I see me,
And I’ll never again change for others.
I’ll be me.