Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ Who Am I? ❯ Who Am I? ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

A/N: Hiya, Peeps!!! Here is my second poem, and this time, it's centered around Kurama!!! *huggles the Kitsune* Isn't he just adorable??? ^^ As I said before (in the A/N for my other poem), I've been having trouble finishing my other fic(s) that I intend to post (eventually ^^ ), so I just thought that I'd go ahead and post this instead. I'm in a creative writing class at school, and we've been writing poems lately……… unfortunately, as a result everything I've written lately have been more “poem-ish” than “story-ish”, so I gave up on the InuYasha fic that I started a while ago *cough September cough* and wrote a coupla' Yu Yu Hakusho poems, instead. ^^ This one is the second one, but that doesn't really matter…..you can go ahead and read this one, and then go read The Heart of a Firefly (hint, hint). ^___~ Anyway, just read it and let me know what you think. Or not. Whatever is fine….. Oh, and just to let you know, flames do not fall under the category of constructive criticism. So don't bother. Besides *points to Kurama* He'll just get pissed off and start ranting about “saving the rainforests”, or something like that….. (And yes, if you ask him, he will deny it. But it's the truth: trust me, I've had to sit in on some very entertaining “rant sessions”, as I like to call them…) ^___^ Ja ne!!!
 
Disclaimer: It's mine!!! All mine!!! Bwahahaha!!! ………….okay, fine, not really. I just borrow random characters to play with ever once in a while. *pouts* But one day………. *evil grin*

IMPORTANT SIDE-NOTE: This poem is dedicated to Jet black, who was the first person to review my other poem. *hugs JB and gives him/her some chocolates* Thank you!!!
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Who Am I?
 
Sometimes I stare into the mirror
And try to figure out who I am.
But every time I think that I have an answer
Something happens, something changes,
And I have to ask myself yet again,
“Who am I?”
 
I have two names.
I tell myself that that is normal;
That many people have more than one name.
For what is a name, but a title?
A way for the world to organize its masses,
And recognize who you claim to be.
 
I have two families.
I tell myself not to worry;
That's not that uncommon, after all…
To have two mothers, two fathers,
Two groups of people to whom I am related,
And who claim to love me.
 
I have two bodies.
Yes, that is unusual.
Both are beautiful and strange;
One is like an old slipper,
But it is no longer comfortable.
The other is like a new pair of shoes
That still doesn't feel just quite right.
 
I have two homes.
I have two sets of memories.
I have two pasts, and two presents,
And I may have two futures, too.
But there is one thing that I only have one of:
I only have one soul.
 
I have some things that are halves, too.
I have two halves of a mind;
One half focused on what I was, what I lost,
What I could be again;
One that is focused on what I have
And what I don't want to loose.
 
I have two halves of a heart.
One half belongs to my old love;
The one I was unable to save.
The other half has been stolen, unawares,
By the one I am now trying to save.
And both halves hurt.
 
I do not know who I am.
Am I a ruthless demon, who should have died?
Am I a legend, who belongs only in myths?
Am I a perfect son, who would die to save his mother?
Am I a friend, a teammate, a companion?
Am I a dream, a fading whisper of a dying reality?
 
Am I one who holds two, or two who holds one?
What is my purpose? Why am I here?
...And why do I care so much?
Why do I lay awake at night
Trying to answer this question of who I am?
Why does it matter?
 
Does any one really know who they are?
Is there any one who knows the answer to this question?
If so, can you tell me who I am?
Or do I have to find out on my own?
And if that's the case, will I ever know?
Will I ever find out?
 
Or can I just be me?
Does it really matter so much?
Can I learn to accept who…what…I am?
Can I be happy with the fact that I have places
Where I belong?
Do I have to know the answer?
 
I don't think I do.
I think I can be content to just…be me.
And maybe, if I wait long enough,
I will find out the truth.
And then I won't have to ask,
“Who am I?”
 
…because I'll know.