
i sit and cry
remembering
all the times
i have tried
to start anew—
to begin fresh—
to be different
than i always am
so that others
will see me,
love me—
take me seriously—
not be this
always awkward,
quirky thing—
a thing…
sometimes even
no
thing.
but i’ve learned,
painfully learned,
i can only be
me.
POET’S NOTE:
Part of The Art of Being collection.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.




Leave a comment