I Am Me

I AM ME When I was nine, I dreamt of my ambition, Wishing to grow with a strong mission. Solely, Daddy applied me to a new motion, Going against my strong notion Without tendering the body lotion. At fifteen, my thoughts turns blue, Fishing out all stain glue To remove all crappy clue. Yet, with a strong cue. When I turn 18, I became raw, Joining my palms to bow Kneeing underneath of a paw, Calling me bow raw. Now at 22, pen defines me right, Shedding on whites, Flying like kites. Blooming without fight. I am me.