Darah

I sit here and imagine.

What would it be like?

What would it be like if I born some other year,

month, week, day, hour, or second?

Would I be different?

Would I be sitting elsewhere writing this?

Would I even know how to write?

 

What would it be like if I born

some other color.

White, tan, black, brown, or yellow.

Would I even write in the same langauage?

Would I write right to left, up to down?

Would I have other experiences to write about?

 

What would it be like if I were born a boy?

Where should I even begin?

Would i write love poems that no one would see?

Would my poems be as mysterious as the night sky

or as clear as a placid lake?

Would I even write at all?

 

What would it be like I were born elsewhere?

Arizona, Kansas, Massachusetts.

Would my poems reflect the same life?

Would my poems have as much pain and thoughfulness?

Would I even write?

 

I sit here thinking,

reflecting on who I am...

creative, quiet, funny,clever, compassionate...

and wonder.

I wonder who else I could've been.

But even with all my pondering and wondering,

I think I like who I am today.