I'm not who I am, I am. I am
A thing who wants not to be I am.
I am clinging to the rocks of thought.
Lashed by the wind and the rain I am,
Wanting I am washed off, leaving me
Rinsed to begin as a me again.
You can't imagine how I am tastes
To a thing not wanting to be
The thing I am. Such a thing I am.
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