That Which Makes Me What I Am.

One that is indivisible by all

The trials that I seem to struggle with.

Thinking on it now; I put up a wall.

For some reason I hide behind my wall

Keeping personas up to the mirror. 

The discorvery of myself is one

My subconscious still keeps from the blank canvas

Which has yet to feel the touch of a brush. 

Where I go I wear the small friendly smile

Where I go I see mine own smile returned

Yet when I come back to this room each day

I search for that which I am or could be.

But only now have I realized that I

Am not defined by whom I dream to be

But I am coloured by those I am with

Tie-dyed by the smiles that I love dearly.