Who am I?

I am not what I was,

Or thought myself to be.

So I repeat,

And I repeat my mistakes

And my triumphs,

To make some sense of the question,

Who am I?

A merging of divergent dispositions

At the mercy of the tides of the sea.

I am not who I thought myself to be;

At the dawn of each day

I find a new way,

An eternal becoming

That never becomes.

I shift in the sands of time,

Shaped and caressed

By a teasing surf.

It is a fallacy,

To perpetuate the myth

That I am the same as I was yesterday

As I will be tomorrow;

It is all but a slight change

In the ploughman’s furrow.

 

7 August 2017

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