Who Am I?

Am I really what others say about me?
Or am I only what I know about myself?
Restless, melancholic, and ill, like a caged bird,
struggling for breath, as if hands clasped my throat,
hungry for colors, for flowers, for the songs of birds,
thirsty for friendly words and human kindness,
shaking with anger at fate and at the smallest sickness,
trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
tired and empty at praying, at thinking, at doing,
drained and ready to say goodbye to it all.
....
Or is there something in me like a battered army,
running in disorder from a victory already won?


Dietrich Bonhoeffer, "Who Am I?" (1944).

Full poem: http://www.marksturgess.org/blog/who-am-i-a-poem-by-d-bonhoeffer



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