Poetry

Who Am I?

My morals guide me.

Be kind,

Don’t hurt others,

And the most important,

Be a good person.


These morals are inferior.

They don’t take so many things into account.

Yet,

Day after day,

These principles guide me.

The result?

I end up at the bottom.


My morals were created by fairy tales,

By organised religion designed to oppress.

I say that,

But is that really so?

Did trauma really have no part?

Hate and anger for the world fuelled me.

Now,

I refuse.


And so, when these morals are questioned.

I step back,

Thinking,

‘Who am I?’


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4 thoughts on “Who Am I?

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