Self Reflection

Where’d it come from, this self image of mine?

Was it fate or circumstances or something more sublime?

I wasn’t treated badly. My parents were OK.

Just ordinary folks living day to day.

Where did it come from this view of disrepute?

Was it this? or that? I guess we could dispute.

But when the day is done, I guess it doesn’t really matter.

I am who I am, just a little bit tattered.

Published in: on April 22, 2009 at 7:48 pm  Leave a Comment  

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