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every day is flowing
     into another
          going
who knows where?
who knows where?
who knows where my life will lead?
who is this person I call me?


every day I’m going
     into the day not knowing
what kind of day
     the day will be


every day I’m going
     into the day not knowing
          what will I do?
          who is this person I call me?


will I feel glory?
will the day be boring?
will it be all doing chores?
will I, just once, touch the stars?
will I be too scared?
will I, just once, dare?
what is there to do?
when I’m not bored, I’m scared
                       or I’m confused


what kind of day
          will this day be?
what will I do?
     who is this person I call me?


every day I’m going
          into the day not knowing
what kind of day
          this day will be
I dream of glory
     like in a story
what will I do?
     what will be my story?
who will I be?
     this person I call me


every day is flowing
          into another
                    going


who knows where?
who knows where?
who knows where my life will lead?
who is this person I call me?



let there be glory

Elsa

January 23, 2004

© copyright Elsa Schieder, 2004, 2024, all rights reserved


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The piece is from 2004. I first put it online in 2008, 2 years after I started my first site. In 2011, I added my first attempt at an audio version.


Who is this person I call me? I'm not on empty, I'm not on full. I wait, but the time for waiting is completed. I'm restless, like a snake getting ready to shed its old skin. Who am I? So many aspects. Click for the many poems online, from tender romantic love poetry, to poems of anger, to poems of longing, and much more.

Click for videos of spoken word pieces, from political rap to poems of longing, to happiness poems.


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Who am I poem.
Big questions.
What will I do?
How will I live?
What does the future hold?
Poetry about
WHO IS THIS PERSON IC CALL ME?

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A poem about
big questions

A poem asking
who am I
A poem about
where am I going
what will I do
who will I become
Poetry where we need
our own answers
Poetry where we need
to listen to ourselves
and to do
so we become
someone it feels
good to be
someone without
a forever answer

Elsa
February 29, 2024