What am I, am I who I want to be? Why do I need to know?
Every day, new and old,
Collecting in our heads adding more to us,
Are we our questions?
Or our questions us..?
Phsychology, is anything even real?
No, it isn't.
We ask the same questions every day,
But will we ever know?
Do we really dream?
Can we really cry?
Is what I feel real?
Probably not, but who can tell?