Great, swirling clouds above my head
A shaking quake under my bed
I cannot simply find my mind
Nor am I e'er the tidy kind
I truly wish that I could be
Some more like you, a better me
I'd strain each sinew 'til I die
It doesn't help, why even try?
I'm sure that, still, I'll wake up soon
Some more like me, some less like you
Striving torments this weary heart
Assurance is a with'ring art
I'm still not sure yet who I am
I'm putty in my Closest's hands
If you can say (I pray you do)
Please tell me what I mean to you.