Odd

I started walking when i couldn’t find where I began,

then called it home wherever I settled down.

I found I’m fluid when I couldn’t keep a certain shape,

I’m curved or crooked or broken,

whichever you prefer.

 

I study definitions to try to locate mine,

a sense of self I lost when I left my childhood behind.

There’s a child missing in me.

I’m trying to find the man,

but he’s not visible in how I think and act and am.

 

I wonder what you’d call me.

I think of the past and remember what you called me.

But now it’s me calling out,

There are no words.

 

 

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Odd

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