Broken Clock

Who would have thought that the question I would ask to myself at this stage of my life is …who amI?
My whole life I grew up thinking that under my age I was gonna discover a box with the missing puzzle pieces that would help me answer all those questions that I continue to have.

one day I found that box
But there was no missing piece
It was just a broken Clock
And a napkin with a kiss

But the broken clock wasn't broken
The time was right
And the hands were no frozen

But I knew it was broke
because even thow the time was right
and the hands were not at pause
all it told me was the time
it didn't tell me who I was

but suddenly I grabbed the clock and I started to cry
Cause the broken clock wasnt't broken
The answer there, was in front of my own eyes
I was, who I was supposed to be, at that exact time

But that moment didn't defined me,
that moment gave me hope
this wasn't the last branch of the tree
This wasn't the end of the rope

I am who I need to be right at this moment.
And tomorrow I'll be who I need to be a that time
What's the rush to define ourselves
When confusion is not a crime

So be who you wanna be
A gangster next Monday
Or a poet today
A Christian on Sundays
and an atheist by May

Who said that we are meant to find ourselves
maybe life is scavegerhunt
a road filled with beer cans, pictures and smoken blunts
that really doesn't take you anywhere.
Just to an empty wooden box shoved to the middle of the earth.

Not all who wonder are lost
You must keep going at any cost
And if you stumble and have doubt
Remember that's what's this journey is all about.

So who I am...
is not the name on the test
It's the answer of the exam

And for the napkin with the kiss
It wasn't made out of lipstick
It was made out of piss

Cause love was never the answer
I was Just a colon cancer
That spread though my soul
And made me think it was my goal

But this was my wake up call
To smell the piss out of the rose
And realize that love was not key
And that the key lives in me
So ill keep the love mine
Put on the broken clock
And stop worring about time.
Monday, July 21, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: life

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1/27/2021 8:12:51 PM #