What am I, but the product of my own thought,
Scars visible from the fights I’ve fought.
Burns and beatings, waterboarding,
Struggling with the memories I’m hoarding.
Life goes on, and I want it to,
Although it still feels like a coup,
Whenever I feel calm and stable,
I give myself the old damn label.
Too intense and always digging,
Doing gods or the devils bidding.
What is all this, what does it mean?
I just want to stay sane and keen.
After all, there’s one true statement,
Don’t belittle, and don’t resent.
It’s not over, because it’s not too late,
Please don’t forget to love your fate.