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.