To be here as I am
I had to be there as I was
a perpetual dreamer
sometimes a singer,
but often a screamer
my ever-fleeting memory
of past life
feels like pollen in the beehive,
was I always the same
or just another empty name?
maybe asking questions
just made me mad,
as there were
days I've been sad
days I've been glad,
living was always the grey area
between good and bad.