You don’t look your age,
Neither your clothing size.
You are not your name,
Nor are you a weight.
Likewise, the hue of your hair.
Alternatively, your cheeks’ dimples
All the books you read and all the words
You speak make up who you are.
When you realise you’re alone,
You become the music you sing out loud.
You are the places you have visited,
likewise the place you call home.
You’re made of such beautiful things,
But it appears that you overlooked,
The moment you decided to identify yourself,
By everything you are not.