Identity

All I am is a list
Laundry bathroom kitchen sink
Scrub scrub no time to think
Window paint vaccum up
Is this the role in which I’m stuck?

All I am is a book
Pi equals three point one four
Lincoln and the speech of scores
Pumice talc granite stone
Not too read yet I’m alone
Communing is hard- give up
Is this the role in which I’m stuck?

All I am is a brush
Canvas over the scrumbles and scars
No one can see if they look from afar
Bleed out my calcified heart--
Torn from Society apart
God will you never let me make it up
Is this the role in which I’m stuck?

All I am is Nothing
       The pieces that hold me tight
               Are sticks in the gales of thought.