Sometimes I wonder who I am
Sometimes I don’t!
But these questions I write on a mental note.
Will a day soon come when I must know?
Or will that simply interrupt the flow?
For the world truly is a stage,
With not one player or page.
To tell truth, I can not act any better then the next.
Impromptu on a track.
Sanded with troubles, slick with tears.
Smoothed with joys throughout the years.
Sometimes I wonder why I’m here
Sometimes I don’t.
But these questions I write on a mental note.
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