Who am I and what is my purpose...?
By yussufhot911
There are some days, when everything in my life, even life itself, feels all too fake to me, and sad mornings when I wake, look in the mirror, but cannot recognize the person I see, or the person I have become... I've been society's slave for so long, just doing as I was told, like a machine, like a robot, accepting what was written, never challenging what I was told, I see the scars now, when I read the history of my people, when I read the journals of great men, then I ask myself, who am I... I am surprised that I honestly don't know, but I know what society shaped me to be, and I cry a tear because I could die tomorrow, and I'd die knowing that I never really lived... Still, life must go on, days must end and others must begin, and once more I will seek to find myself, and avoid those hours in my life, that painfully drag, and enjoy the sprinkle, of a few good hours, which I know, only swiftly passes like seconds in a day, and maybe at the end I will know who I am and my purpose... Written February 26th, 2002 © on Feb 26 2002 12:19 PM PST 0 • 9
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"There are some days,..."