I Am

I am just matter
My skin made of flesh and blood
Life's own particle

I live everyday
A poet in misery
Seeking to find it

That which has been lost
That which can never be found
That which has no name

Know I what I seek
I would share it with you
Unknown it remains

Love I my own soul
Sure, for it is eternal
Though it is unseen

My life I do live  
As it is meant to be lived 
Following my fate

I am, obviously
I have a family name
I live, sure, I do

I do ask myself
Of the ways of this realm
Wait I for my death

Eager to see it 
The gate of eternity
To be with the Lord

In the end, you ask
Do I really know myself
I would say, I don't

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Allen W Trew

Date: 11/6/2014 9:35:00 AM

Several times I've read this, and several times I've come to the conclusion that I want to read it several times more :) I'm not a critic by any stretch of the imagination, yet I see a 'simplicity of self', tied to the eternal question of 'Who am I?' Lovely.

David Meade

Date: 11/5/2014 3:20:00 PM

In the end, He knows you. I really like your poem. All the best.