Who Am I Poem by James Gibbons

I finally get to be me. What dark days, Fog blinded, walking. Seeking something, I knew not what. Oh, there were easy paths, Filled with easy people, To do the easy thing. I oft quaffed that drink. And found myself the worse. At least no nearer the truth. My God, did I need help! After reading all the books, And trying to follow the rules, What was left to know? But peace and quiet, And please my soul.