Death And Who I Am Poem by Syed Mizbahuddeen

I am
All of the birds that were never born
The songs they never sang
Dumb lips and unheard melodies— is all that I am.

I am
All of the forgotten truths
That you have buried in distant lands
And all that you were never ready for— is all that I am.

So you set forth
To bury me, not-so-merrily
Today, thinking that you knew me
Crying your warm tears over the ice cold body
Of someone you thought you knew—
Your friend? Your brother? Your blood? Your beloved?
Oh no,

I am
All of the things you wouldn't know
All of the things you wouldn't see
All of the things I never said
I was.

And all of death is nothingness
I was death before I lived
And death I want to be

Now, after you've buried the body
Of that which you thought you knew
Know that I was nothing that you thought I was
And write these words near the grave in spite:

"This is not the first time that I have died."