Who stole my ambition?
Who would do such a thing?
Perhaps it was the “I” that stole the “me”,
Along with its precious time
And memories.
So now what?
How does one live in this world with
No identity?
Seems the “I” has been placed into
Structure and form,
Now some-one must learn to
I notice the desire for purpose
Is present and unclear,
Because I want to know,
Whose purpose do I serve
In a sea of “me’s”
And its collective fear?
Perhaps I’ll invest my energy
Into defining this “I”
As both dark and light…
As the beauty we all nod
And agree upon,
As much as the ugly stuff
That sparks a bit of fun
When plastered on the “other” one.
I have no plans
And I’ve lost all attachment to “fun”.
Sounds scary… I know,
But I find there’s so much to absorb
When the “I” is here,
And has lost all ambition
To run.

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