Who am I?

A poem asking myself, who am I?

Dreams to Reality
2006

You see
I have all these words
With no way to say them
No Avenue of reference
Only this reoccurrence

It’s nameless
There’s no genre to title
No way to classify
The idea sits waits to fly

Does it move with rhythm to a smooth percussion beat?
Do islander’s chant to it while glazed by the suns heat?
Is it a rhyme told in a lounge, encircled by a spotlight?
Or maybe it’s lyrics written for a rock bands opening night?
Can it be a book read on the bench in the park?
Or is it an old wives tale told in the dark?
Perhaps its words of a motivator that leads amongst a crowd
Standing with strength, never afraid but always proud?

What is it that I do?
Can it be them all?
Or is the question what am I?
Am I the one waiting to fly?
Is it I that sits and pauses?
Maybe my talent is for all these causes?
Till I decide
I’ll embrace my words with pride
Hold tight to my dreams and create them in reality
Because nothing is with out possibility,
Right?

by Candace De Foor