Who I Am Poem by James Dionne

Note: This sort of is a prequel to 'Threes and Sevens, ' if you're curious to give that a read!

I looked out the window today.
Another soul stealing what I had loved;
Another man forgetting how to pray.

My hands were concealed and gloved,
to hide all of that which scares the kids,
the blood and war of the Unloved.

All the poor stare at me with their truthful lid,
their inconvenient stares,
their lies are not there; their lie, it hid.

Left and right I'm given these daring glares,
truth winds up and spits it in my face,
it all gives me shivers, scares, and vivid nightmares,

Of a time so long ago, a time of race -
A turtle dove, a stepping stone,
A shoe with no feet and an untied shoe lace.

The children now scream in a joyful moan.
What is that crying sound of the soon to be,
a girl weeping over what I had an undertone?

I wish I could only comfort but it would see,
the truths are all lies,
my luck only runs in a seven and three.

Play my ace, give the Devil to the skies,
Make me scream in a terrifying boom!
the looks all stare with when, where, and why's.

Three's and seven's is all my loom,
a child of Sodom, that dream.
I lay dying, the spirit in a room.

And the girl of light so long ago in the land of gleam,
is a dying picture, chords to the core.
I thought holiness would send me the Hope, the Beam.

My soul lay dying, in a place of evermore.
The girl is gone; dreams shattered.
I am lost forever - this grueling gore...

And yet, I hope my name will be scattered,
because my love for you was all that mattered.

But death I am raised,
a three, a seven.

You turn a blind eye,
the hour turns Eleven.