What I Am
What I am, speaks not, about what I've been,
And what I'll be, as fools deemed, wasting time,
I could be quark, not known, and never seen,
An errant gene, or quite the spark sublime.
But I, of simian spores, bearing my shame,
Swinging through trees, might for a better fate,
Choose, that ethereal be, whence I came,
And for choosing, chose God whom to relate.
I am, what I am, life that God protects,
Breath from God's nostrils, at creation's peak;
Why should I think otherwise, to prospects
That are bleak, and make myself a wreck?
........All that I said, I doubt not to a nil,
........Except to say, if God has a nostril.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Added by Poetry Lover
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