I am weird,
I am strange;
I am quite odd—
and perhaps
even a little crazy.
Though nothing in this world,
or any other, for that matter,
could ever make me
change.
I am my own person—
and my own person is me—
whether I am boring,
or fun,
or have others
laughing a ton.
I am my own person...
can you not see?
I am this,
and I am quite so that.
I am who I am—
whether it be
a mouse,
or a rat;
a dog,
or a cat.
I could just be a bird,
who flies ever so high;
or perhaps a fish
who swims the seven seas.
Or maybe a light
that shines in the dark—
I can be anything.
But anything, at most,
I am who I am—
though I’d like not
to boast.
I could be a friend
that can count
from one to ten,
or a quiet sleeper
who may not ever
make a snoring sound.
At the most,
I could pretend.
Though, be that as it may—
I will always be
the person that
I’d wish to stay.
Or perhaps, in a way,
I wish for my person
to be the one
that was just yesterday...
and not today.
Though, it doesn’t matter
what I’d ever want—
I am my own person.
And he is me.
Whether it be today,
or it be tomorrow...
or perhaps a year,
or two,
or even three—