I am...
I am...
I am something.
Something growing I suppose.
Or something flowing?
Something all-knowing?
I'm really not quite sure.
Perhaps it's wrong to place a name
On a...
On a...
And here I am at the beginning again.
Was I ever really so sure about myself,
When I was all just wild guesses?
If there really is a me,
Where has she been?
Where is she now?
How do I find her?
I am...
I am...
I am nothing,
And yet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful Poem, Sara. Thanks for sharing