Foreign places–I’m surrounded by new spaces

Unfamiliar faces, and a variety of races

Solidarity has never been so real

With time to think about what it is I truly feel

What I believe, what I know

Why I grieve

What’s there, not in my head

But down below

In my heart, in my soul

Suppressing emotions has taken its toll

The metaphorical carpet is being lifted

I’ve thrown out my broom and now I’ve drifted

Off to a place of self-discovery

Of confrontation, of honesty

Of past hardships that went unnoticed–ignored

Pushed under that carpet so not to have mourned

Who is it that I am and how do others perceive me to be

These are questions I wonder, but don’t always have the ability to see

Because I’m blinded–jaded–and sometimes sedated

The answers don’t lie within the abysmal hole of

Materialism, skepticism, or even my self-control mechanism

I won’t find them in the norms, rules, or trends that society has set

And I refuse to look back on my youth with regret

So this search for myself has started today

To find these answers–to find my own way

Where am I going and what is my purpose

There’s a way of knowing but it’s not on the surface

I have an intuition of what it could be

It’s about being for others and not just for me

It’s about dealing with my feelings, thoughts, and emotions

Knowing myself and my own philosophical notions

Pursuing relationships with family and friends

While finding myself in “god” and making amends

I know it won’t be easy, but I’m willing to fight

Because I’ve been waiting for years to see the Light.

Whitney Davis

© 2010