Of What Am I

I wrote this poem after my last residency. I was just rumbling along on the train, and I started thinking about how many places I have been and the number of experiences I have had and how, even still, there is so much I know nothing about. So this is what came out.

Of what am I:

Poetic injustice

What of that does my heart know?

What of hurt and pain and sorrow?

Love fable

What of that do I truly feel?

What of joy and happiness have I kept?

Popular sub-culture

What of that do I deserve?

What of labels and non-conforming conformists have I been?

Epic Prosaic

What of hope have I experienced?

What of Romance, and inspiration have I explored?

Of what am I

To where I have been

I am not indebted

For what of them have I known?