Who am I?

Somehow in the blur of life,
I’ve become a little lost,
forgotten who I am,
let myself get so busy,
trying to pass as something,
that I no longer look like me,
now I’m trying to remember,
to rediscover,
who I am.

You say I need to get to know me,
and I know you’re right,
but my heart tries to fight it,
looking for an easy way out,
or a simple escape,
from the truth.

I look inside and I cry,
broken pieces remain,
of a neglected spirit,
I used to cherish.

An artist,
a writer,
a singer,
a poet,
a creative flower,
in need of water.

Pieces of me cry out for attention,
wanting to be known,
like I used to know me.