As I age I think who am I? 
I know of what I am
What I was but
Who am I? 
Am I self served? 
I feel guilty for taking
others stuff well earned
 I know I'm 20
But how old Is my soul
 Is there a untold past
 I yet to remember
I meet old friend and
here unbleivable stories of myself
How I was bad and
 ate food bad for my health 
Daily abuse from a belt
watching my snowmen melt
ignored when cried for help
now I'm happy
Because I do for myself
Fell so alive and well
My shoes are worn out
Can't imagine how I felt
all I know is I rose from hell
I'm not in heaven but
I'm not caged in a cell
Locked in jail waiting for mail
I'm blessed to survive
My surffering
 without taking blades from my shelf thanks so my faith
Ive bonded with my inner self