I’m plucking away the petals
Of a rose named me.
They’re falling to the floor,
But the floors aflame.
So, did they burn,
Or am I insane.

Sanity is that my question?
Well it’s a far cry
From what I claim to have.

I’m ripping out the pages
Of book known as me.
Catching the breeze,
But they’re landing in a brook.
So, did they melt,
Or was that the foundations that shook.

Oh, we’re talking stability!
Now I know we’ve switched subjects,
Because that’s just not me.

I’m tearing down the walls
Of a citadel called me.
The masonry it trying,
But this storm isn’t  through.
So, was it worth it,
Or should it they have quit too?

Determination, that’s the key.
I think we may after all
Be talking of me.