It’d sure be nice
To know who I am,
To fast forward through life
Just to know how it ends.
To skip through life’s lessons
Leaving me drab and sore.
To answer life’s questions
Left over from before:
Did I finally do it?
Am I worthy of love?
Will anyone remember?
Is there more work to be done?
Then the leaves begin to fall,
It makes a little more sense.
Who I am is not a know-it-all,
Who I am is who I’m with.