Quesion of Identity

A question of identity

A question of my identity sprouts to mind on the walks through time
Will I be the same , oh will I?
what if change comes across my path and smites me?
A train off its tracks, off course , from par to the rough.
if I open my eyes and I feel nothing or too much
a journey from left to right, from different to the same
my film reel and pen crushed under the weight of my existance
a fear of losing causes loss and a fear of change is fear of time
I know these but I cannot rewind , my tape is set on full blast all the time
my roots are set into the dirt , I hope they are anchored well into the earth
So I can converse with myself and not feel explosion
Corrosion or Ill health.
I don't wish for money , but it would help
I just want to look at myself and feel nothing , negativity and fear abate and fall like the cherry off my cake
That's the dream, for f**k sake.