I am the words here, written in pen.
I am words you hear recited in your head.
I am this and that at the same time.
I am a hundred hammers making a rhyme.

The shout that never raises its voice.
  The scream that cannot contend with all of the white noise.
    The immobile rock that will not hear a sound.
      The never ending ticking of a clock counting down.

I am measured in madness.
I am forgotten before found.
I am hope, hopeful, hopeless, hopelessness.
I am a square that is round.

The challenge put before us all.
  The sharpened pencil, ready to draw.
    The countless times someone was kind.
  　The ugly bat, not deaf, but blind