For the record

For the record, I'm not who you think I am

Just another guy, hanging out at a poetry slam

I'm not trying to get at you, or be somewhat impressive girl

I'm delivering these words to be expressive, let you in my world

So many things, got this man stressed out

But its not my bills, girl troubles, or some dude's loud mouth.

It's the inner-battle, love fighting hate

Temptation versus will power, my self-control battles fate

Am I doomed to fail, am I destined to succeed?

Will the powers that be, fulfill my needs?

Just a couple questions that plague my soul

For the record, you may think you know me, but you still dont know.