Who is she?
Who is this girl sitting with pen and paper,
Writing words of her own,
and words of others?
Who is she?
She who spies on conversations,
writes her depressions,
using words of rhyme and death mixed with passion
She is I.
I am a writer,
I am a poet,
I am human like you.
I breathe...I bleed...I need...
My needs may be different,
Just as yours are from mine.
Who am I?
I search my soul,
You search my eyes and my work
I look for the answer to the question "Who am I"
I have found...
I am a writer,
I am a poet,
I am human like you
I breathe...I bleed...I need...
so...
Soo... how are we different?
Do I write like you?
No.
Do I talk like you?
No.
Do I feel like you?
No.
Therefore, I am who I am...
I am a unique individual,
I am a poet.
So... Who is she?
She is I
and you are you
Together, in harmony, we make the world.
Together, in harmony, let us bring peace.
With your words and mine,
This world may be divine.
Who am I?
Who am I?
at times I do not even know...That is me.
I am that girl,
sitting with paper and pen,
Sitting with a blackened rose,
whose stem is full of thorns,
I am that girl,
sitting and cryin' with bleeding fingers.
Drip...
Drop...
Blood flows as life does...
Do you feel it?
Can you touch it?
Do you feel the soul of yourself dripping in your blood?
I do...That is who I am... I am my soul-- waiting to be set free.