Who am I meant to be......

I wonder if who I am now is who I am going to be , I wonder if who i am going to be is who I plan to be. I wonder if who I plan to be is who I want to be. I wonder if who I want to be is a reflection of society? Questions they run through my head like a sorcerer, wizard and Mage asking me these ill minded questions. I feel wrong for questioning like its the pressure and its tearing the lining of my brain, damaged tissue

Questions ohh how they begin the deepest recesses of the mind extended in the real world and how do they take their toll. Trolls trolls of the real world how they take their toll and they fall of the tongue like tissue roll will clean up the mess society left behind , which is me. Is this me? Or is this who I am meant to be? I am confused , so are you, so is me, ohh woe is me.

All 6 ft 3 of me, get a tissue goodness he's crying, but a man is not supposed to cry, crying is like death to a mans pride and he will curl up in a ball and die before any woman sees him so weak. The pressure can get too much much and then he will burst like a can of well shaken soda and just pop!!! 

Society society is this who I want to be , do I want to be the man questioning myself every night, instead of being wrapped tight in a non existent gods salvation who will somehow bring me to the light , but with all my might I fight . Why do I fight ? Am I afraid or not willing because it's slipping the beans and I am not ready ? Ready to pour my all into this being they say created me? Created by mother and father, but he took my father. Yes he took him, all to soon and best believe they haven't closed, the deepest wounds.

Society society is who I am going to be the person I will remain?? I scrambled through the courtyard and saw my old self, battered torn and bruised why how he truly looked a mess , I wish I was a little better dressed . Dressed for who ? You and me , him and I , I am him, I am tired of this I don't even drink but lets take a shot of this and pull trigger, like the drinker taking his last shot of gin.

Appearances are deceiving I could wear a suit for every day of every season and then you would think I am okay, but truthfully I am not. I am still perfecting myself like a piece of beautiful clay found in the rubble but lord knows this piece of clay is only the beginning. But you see that's the trouble !

Society society society society tell me who I am going to be, tell me who I am and who I used to be. I want to know without all the man made products is this who I was born to be ......