Colin F. Jones

ME, MYSELF, OR I

You know I sometimes worry what others think of me,
For I am not an island in the middle of the sea,
In fact I am so sensitive behind my fading guard,
That thinking what I might be like is for me very hard.
I am so expert seeing through other folk with ease,
And yet I know not if I fail or other folk do please.
I write so many verses that may offend the mind,
That I’m never sure if I am “nice” or seen more as unkind.
It matters not what most folk think but it matters much with friends,
Who either say nice things to me or nothing; it depends
If they do want to tell me off, or criticise my verse,
Which they refrain from doing, or from doing something worse.
How can one know who’s telling truth or who is telling lie,
When I’m not sure who I am, me myself or I.