Versions Of Me

I am who I am

and that’s all that I am.

Bust my butt every day

to pay Uncle Sam.

I laugh when I’m happy

and cry when I’m sad.

A mix of good,

sprinkled with bad.

I’m fairly certain that

the person I see sometimes in

the mirror is the unbridled me.

The one that’s mistaken

pleasure for pain;

The one that’s misguided;

The one to blame.

For the reckless abandon

that had become my way,

of solving the problems

that I faced every day.

Minute things blown

way out of proportion.

What once was so clear

became total distortion.

Lo and behold -

when I woke up today,

the glass in the mirror

showed no disarray.

A quick shake of the head

and a few blinks of the eyes

started to make me realize.

That what was once broken,

I can make whole.

I have the power

to regain control.

Of the unbridled version

that longs to be free.

Making way for the benevolent

one that you see.