What Does it Mean to be Me?

What Does it Mean to be Me?

Who am I?

I wonder.

I love to write,

But what doe that mean?


I love to sing.

I love to laugh.

Music moves my soul,

But what does that mean?

I cry when I a sad,

I exercise to get fit.

I work heard when I am well,

And rest when I am sick.

I even love to go to school,

But what does that mean?

If only learning to become the successful person that you desired to be were as easy as a flower learning to bloom.


I may work hard,

And I may try to fit in,

But that is not the measure of success.

I know the chores that I dislike,

And the task I love,

But still have no clue where I am going.


I have taken many classes,

And passed quite a few.

My record is growing,

But still I do not know where I am going.


I once thought I would be a doctor,

A teacher,

A nurse,

Maybe even a lawyer.

But poor health and stress knocked out my desire.

Long travel and empty stomach

left my dreams for the future curled in a dismal heap on the dirty floor.

I longed to achieve,

But watched the iron door slam firmly close.

Who am I? Where am I going? What shall I be? Were some of the deep questions that troubled my heart.



So what is success?

What determines ones future?

Where am I going?

Who will I be?

Will I ever achieve my measure of success?


So many questions

And not one answer.

I long to arrive,

But my plane has been hijacked.

My kidnapped dreams seem to have lost my address.

My fondest hopes have gone sky diving,

And every wish for the future is on vacation in the keys.


I guess I must wait patiently as life flies by.

My friends are either married or working

To busy to call on social nothing me.

And why would they talk to someone who only wonders about success

When they have arrived at the winner’s circle.

In their grown up eyes I am just a baby

Alone in an over sized playpen.

They are to busy changing the world to take notice

Of left behind me.

Happy smelss the flowers 1
There were many times when my search for success seemed harder than a pup trying to search a hundred acre farm for one lost bone.


Still I wonder what will become of lonesome me.

I still have time to arrive

And achieve.

Someday one of my goals will have to come marching home

With its naughty little tail tucked apologetically between its leg.

How long can desire play hide and seek,

Success float lazily down the river,

And fortune be a hopscotch and a skip away.


Someday I will know who I am.

Maybe it will be a doctor,

A writer,

A teacher,

A lawyer,

Or something better than I ever dared to dream.

I like nursing,



And performing.

Perhaps I will be a policewoman,

A waitress,

An actress,

Stock broker,

Or sales woman.

I might even grow up to be the president of a large company

Or possibly even a country.

My search for purpose, my quest for success might not have gone the way that I desired, but through it all I could rejoice in the thought that if I was faithful, one day in the land where the rose never fades, my greatest hopes and dreams will at last come to past.


No one but God knows my future right now.

For now all I see is a fog.



Is never very far away

If you


And close your eyes in faith.

You may not receive the answer today,

But no longer will you be so afraid.

Peace can fill your careworn heart

And silence the laughing taunts of the unforgiving world.

And let you heart grasp with faith the promise of

An infinitely better


© 2016

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