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.