I am like a banshee wailing desperately in warning,
whose call is heard but never heeded;
The tide, who forever grows in courage,
only to retreat back in fear of the unknown.
I am a mountain, constantly growing, crumbling with the earth and its surroundings;
A crack in the curb viewed as an imperfection, a nuisance, an out of place burden that must be fixed.
I am like Donkey overlooked and underestimated but always faithful to the ones I love most;
I am the snowdrop flower sprouting from the snow;
caressing the air with its sweet fragrance and thriving when all else is frozen;
A cool fog rolling over a serene lake, hiding, taunting you with the mysteries I keep hidden.
I am not a wisp of smoke in the air bound to dissipate,
Nor a human copied, pasted, and programmed to fit into society.
I am not furious at anyone in particular, just at the injustices of the world.
I am not Tom who bounds toward trouble like a hound eager for the hunt;
Nor am I a glowing rod straight from the embers of a fire.
I am not Hamlet destined for tragedy at the pen of Shakespeare;
For I am my own author with pen poised to decide my own fate,
I am not the deceitful deity Apate who blossoms with the suffering of others,
No, I am the Greek Goddess Eos who brings hope to the newfangled day of tomorrow.
I am me.