People don’t know what to make of me;
see, I’m many different people, all rolled into one
Most of the time I’m pretty happy; but rare times, I’m not
If it’s any consolation, sometimes I don’t even know myself
When I recall things I’ve done in the past,
surely, I must have been possessed by aliens,
because there is no way I’d ever act like that!
© Copyright 2016 Mike Stevens. All rights reserved.