I don’t know which way i’m going, i don’t know which way i’ve come
and all the roads we have to walk are winding, and all the lights that lead us are blinding
no direction home, a complete unknown like a rolling stone
everyone seems to know the score, they’ve seen it all before
i came in from the wilderness a creature void of form
how can I know that and not know who i am?
so let us not talk falsely now the hour is getting late
but all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity
i offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn
look at what they make you give
well I know what i’ve been told, gotta break free to break the hold
i wanna know if all you need is love
try imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm
put your hands in your pockets looked away and smiled
Slightly different from my usual posts, the above is a poem that I ‘composed’ during a university module on identity. Thought I’d post it up here because it speaks to how much TV, Film & Music can shape the language we use to discuss ourselves and the things around us.