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Who Am I?
Who am I?
Who am I to be so small and dream so big?
Who am I to want so much when I was raised in undeserving circumstance?
Can I believe that now, at 50, my life could be different?
That somehow, against all odds I could make it happen? Get it done?
I am a person who believes.
Who through it all still clings to a glimmer of hope, of possibility, of greatness. The same glimmer I saw, but could not catch, 30 years ago.
At what point does one say it is not me? I was not meant to be such things. That greatness is for others?
That is the beauty or the sadness of it. That I can still wake anew every morning and for the smallest of seconds, believe in me.
Even now.
