Am I the breath of my physical traits.
Brown haired, White furred, Blue eyed disgrace.
Pessimistic and embroiled by hates.
Far beyond the reach of grace.

Am I the causes I'm marching for?
The banner spread outward for the lord.
The fallen country, The ready foe.
The lack of knowing were to go.

My faults, their numbers all immense.
The heavy burdens my shoulders tense.
The ones around me who lean on me.
are they my mill stone , to set me free.

My friends and family all don't know.
How my worry like the mornings crow.
Darkens my image and cows my name.
Because I know the truth, its all the same.

Art By  Bunanana