Sunday, 18 December 2011

I am

I am who I am is what I’ve told myself
“Be who you are” is what I’m told.
But when all you’re told is of what is expected.
What society, over years, has constructed.
And all our ways are so restricted.
That our hope is solely to be accepted.
And yet, “I am who I am” is what I’ve said.


I am who I am
But I no longer know who I am
Because who I’ve been is who I’ve wanted to be
So that others can see?
And that I may be free?
But that does not make me who I am
Or who I could be
But would I be who I need to be
To be the me the world ceases to see?

But who I am is whom I’ve tried not to be.
To be all whom I can be
And still things have worked in revers
For who I am is who I should be
Whom I could be but possibly
Not whom I want to be
Nor whom I stay saying, ‘I’m me.’
Will I ever be free?

Saturday, 17 December 2011


Stories unfold
Of secrets untold
Meanings understood
And reasons forgotten.
Blind belief
Broken in grief
Claiming to know
The One who sees all.
Sleeping spirit rise
Tell all mankind
Truth is not told
But seen all around.

Saturday, 3 December 2011

Before You Reach

You wish you knew what to do
Or even what to say
Helpless and burdened
You keep walking your way

You wonder, ‘Will it ever end?’
This mountain that you scale.
The valley may have been beautiful,
But it’s always about the climb.

You struggle to hold on.
You wish to give up.
You want to go home.
You’re just tired and rough.

Your voice is coarse as you cry out for help,
But not a soul will appear to dry your tears.
Then you quieten, leave every thought aside.
To hear a voice that calls your name, faintly from inside.

The more you listen, the louder you hear.
The easier the climb, as the peak draws near.
You’re going home, though a while it may take.
But you’re determined to give your best, even before you reach.