this is me

this is me finding out who I am.

Who am I?
Am I a leaf in the river of life
Just too quietly float by?
Or am I a machine that moves the course of the river of life,
In an attempt to make it their own?

What am I?
Am I a beast in the pen?
Whose owner gives everything it needs to survive?
Or a beast in the woods,
Who forages for sustenance under a pale blue sky?

Where am I?
Am I happy where I am?
Or should I move to some quiet woods,
With a river, a lake, or even a dam?

Could the happiness I want truly be?
Or is this all some big joke?
It seems life always throws me a curve,
Just about the time I am happy, or get a nerve.
Or maybe I should just sit here still,
Not moving an inch, much less a muscle,
If I do, this is not what I am,
Or who I'm meant to be.
And who, by chance, is that?
Simply put…
It is me.