Of myself, what do I preach,
As I walk the worlds many streets?
How does my Identity actually speak?
Through my eyes, my words, my deeds?
Beneath the layers of olive skin,
Who am I inside, deep within?
Over hearts, will my Identity ever win?
Despite my wrong deeds, my evil, my sins?
Behind the eastern cloak that I wear,
What would you see should you stop and stare?
What thoughts does my Identity share
To a world who is free not to care?
In what way can I explain,
Who I am and from where I came?
Why must my Identity remain,
A subject of scrutiny, an issue of blame?
In what way can I define,
The mere word; I?
Tell me! Where must my Identity lie?
In my blood, my past, my eyes?
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