i wrote this in my history class when my teacher was yelling at someone for being stupid and not being able to get a job and it kinda sucks but wanted to share

for, i am only a man,
my aspirations outlandish and my dreams improper,
as i am no true hero, or villain stopper.

i see the sky between my fingers,
and one thought lingers.
"who am i?"

for, i could be a knight,
a prince,
a king or ruler,
but those feel drear,
boring,
and like a saboteur.

as dawn turns dusk and the sun says goodnight,
i lay in fright,
one question in sight.
"who am i?"

am i someone truly if i do not know what to do with myself?
who am i without something to do? without a lover, a family, or a name?
am i the one to blame?
should i be ashamed?
even as i sleep, this one singular question haunts me.
who are you?
and what are you going to become?

will i get over this? the forever sadness, the hold of melancholy?
am i truly a person without a goal, a life, or a plan?
i said i'd keep myself true,
i'd keep myself honest,
but all of this, feels like a twist of the knife, instead of an accomplishment.

shouldn't i want to love, dream, and achieve?
i grieve the man i could be,
as i am gone,
and back at dawn.

and even now,
i still have one question.
who am i,
and do i even want to know the answer?