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Who Am I?
I sit here, scribbling.
My questions remain unchanged.
I ask myself,
Who am I?
I am an American,
Proud, brave, free.
I am young.
The clear face you see
Is me.
I am filled with knowledge,
Filled with hope, power, time...
I am somebody.
Who is...?
Nobody?
I am the man of a thousand words,
A thousand actions,
A thousand hugs and kisses,
A thousand memories.
I am a calm boy,
An outspoken boy,
An imperfect boy,
and caring as well.
So I am me.
You are not me.
So, who are you?
And you tell me, who am I?
FROM THE DESK OF my soul
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