Colin F. Jones

ME

Am I what you have made of me?
Or yet, the spirit I was at birth,
Designed as someone you can’t see,
Where you can’t look to judge my worth.
Who am I really; do you know?
Am I my tutors mind and tongue?
Or do I reside where you can’t go,
Where only I can ere belong?
There is an inner truth; a soul,
The seed that possesses all I am,
The precious element that makes me whole,
Despite being an indoctrinated man:
Tis where true love can only reach,
Where inner truth is there for each.