swapping our days past for gas masks. your excuses are weak. but you are not, you are strong. we never speak long about the things you feel. we linger on my stresses and strains - they are real but , we find comfort in their pettyness glazed over with brief happiness the day-to-day norm the calm that cant see the storm.
fog blankets us on the hill as the rain shifts to show the lands where terror reigns. it pains me to see you shrug it off, day dreaming is not enough. let time drift, let him slip coz you wont miss him like i do. He is not a weapon he is a friend, how can people find their heaven as a means to yourend

time flys in your company. you and me, the only thing we **** is time and there's none of that to waste you a saving grace. a friendly face, you live life at a different pace but we race through our occational days dreaming up ways to seamingly live and be free you and me, that perfect company.

trying to master the art of the perfect raspberry whilst drinking hot chocolate, to most its not much but you never fail to make me laugh. weather fails to dampen spirits even a gail woul bring a good time with it.
we concluded we cant ice skate with bruises and feet that ache talking late over hot drinks but its half a years worth of winks before i see you again. i dont mind coz when i do its like theres been no gap, weve got big plans, camping and the zoo me and you, we fit and i know you have to leave but believe me its **** to see you walk away to being another half a years worth of days away.

What am I?

What am I?
Nobody knows
How do I function?
Is this what I chose?
Before birth was I alive,
able to choose where I'd end up in life?
Was I conscious and aware of what's yet to come,
or was I completely ignorant and happy to find out?
I've lived my life so uncertain and scared,
living without knowing what should be feared.
Should I be scared of dying, the unknown, or the promised?
Or should I be scared that I may not know what life is?
What am I you ask?
Well I am me
What does that mean?
I guess we'll see.
But for now I can guess, what I am in this life of unfulfilled dreams and constant unrest.

Am I a child of god, made in his image? Made to follow the path that may not be finished.
This thought of a higher being with control over me seems unfitting and flawed because people see me and say he's broken and tired from the past but hold on because as long as you have faith you will be strong.
I disagree with this only for one reason, why would an all mighty god who loves us force us into eternal damnation.
This punishment would serve for those who would sin but in what  sense of the work would it be justified?
It's not in anyway so that why I don't believe.

No I'm none of that, more like an entity inhabiting a body I never actually wanted. How's that for Devine justice.
Nothing but a bundle of nerves and muscle designed to do nothing but survive. Along the path of evolution to become more efficient with survival we complicated things beyond belief. We created problems that never needed to exist. Feelings, drama, pettyness, and heartache. Why? Who ******* knows much more, who cares. Nothing will ever change from where we started heading.

So who am I?
I am one of millions destined to wonder that exact question with no definitive answer. One of millions to write a generic poem which are photo copies of one and other.