I Am What I Am

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I wear no mask Nor do I wear any mask I am not the prophet's prefect Nor am I the God's reject Nor was I the god's child perfect I look as I am to be I am what I think as to be As the defoliated tree looks to be As the dethroned leaves sway awhile in cupid love With the dirty frogs leaping high in the breeze As the straighter path bends Along the autumnal way to discretion Even as the death blows the other way around Even when the depth of meaning tears me wide aprt Even when the splotched soul dies me dead I look to be bending as what I am in the burning morning From the very beginning to the end of whirring chugging Days and nights what I am doing and undoing Even as I were dead Dead as darkness in full light of the day I would shed my shroud of dead skin, my mask I would do off my crown of thorns That my soul had buried for a long while While I thought what I ought to be as what I am to be Like defoliated leafless treee looks to be Even as i were dead I would be as what I look to be.