I don’t know what I am. 

 

I don’t know what I am.

When I fall, I feel like dry autumn leaves. 

When I stand up, I feel like the new leaves of spring.

 

I don’t know what I am.

When I cry, I feel like the waterfalls of the mountains.  

When I laugh, I feel the sound of the rumbling of the river.

 

I don’t know what I am. 

When I lose, I feel like a house of stagnant cards. 

When I win, I feel like the peak of the Himalayas.

 

I don’t know what I am.  

When I meet haters, I become fake and abusive.  

When I meet lovers, I become cute and innocent.

 

I don’t know what I am. 

When I am angry, I become a villain. 

When I am in love, I become like a hero.

 

I don’t know what I am. 

When I look at myself through the eyes of others, I become shameless. 

When I look at myself with my own eyes, I become modest.

 

I do not know what I am.

Sometimes I feel like an extinguished lamp.

Sometimes I feel like a smouldering spark.

 

I don’t know what I am.

Sometimes I feel like a big ship kept on the shore. 

Sometimes I feel like a kayak battling in the sea.

 

I don’t know what I am. 

Sometimes I feel like a tired and lost traveller.

Sometimes I feel like a warrior fighting with life.

I don’t know what I am.

 

 

“I don’t know who I am” is the introspection of the writer. We all are in the confusion.  He is a new leaf of spring, or a dry autumn leaf. He is a big seep, which stays on the shore and waits for the storm to pass. Or a kayak battling with the storm for his existence, dream, and desire. I write this poem with belief that. Sometimes a book is less to tell about yourselves. And sometimes a few lines explained, what you think about yourself, and what you want to convey. This question not only confuses me. But we all suffer from this question. “What I am, or who I am”. But never get the right answer. I hope that my introspection shows you a direction to think about yourself. So I conclude with the hope you enjoy this poem. Please give a gentle remark.

Best of luck.

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