Who Am I
Who Are We?
Who am I
I’m just a little girl stuck inside a big body
I’m little tyrant fully tied around with twine
I’m a tiny baby filled with wonder for the world I see above me
The stars that twinkle endlessly
The moon that just stays pleasantly
Without asking too much
Just keeping to itself shyly
While reflecting the sun’s light at us ever so gently
And I am awestruck and in love with it
Why?
I assumed once I knew everything
But right now I am not so sure I know anything
Whatever I once believed to be true
Now seems to have flipped upside down
I can’t see it anymore
And now what I see with my big green eyes
It seems like everything I see is a new beginning
Did I turn back to my youth again?
Did I miss out on everything then?
Why do I feel what I feel inside of me
I want to run around like a little girl and play with angels
Am I still a little girl only?
Has this earth convinced me that when you’re close to 50 you are an oldie?
Is this also illusion then?
How is a 30 something child able to teach me what I should have been teaching him?
Is something wrong with me?
Oh I feel so belittled, so fragile, so tiny like a little green pea
This world is such an illusion
Nobody knows the truth there is in here, do we?
What we think we know we really don’t
What we know so well is only mechanical
We’re all existing in assumptions
Believing in what we read
Believing in the saints who seem to know otherwise
But which is truth and which is a lie
Who really knows this?
Today what I feel right
Seems wrong again
Yesterday what I stood by
Feels foolish now
Which is right which is wrong
Who is justified who is not
How do we know who is a lie
Is this all there is to life?
Does nobody know what truth there is
Are we all walking away blindfolded
Why then do we pretend we know it all
And bring upon punishment or judgment
To those we deem wrong?
The one in heaven, he sits and laughs
It sounds so comical to him
The way we walk proud and tall
One whip, one slip and we are lost forever
As if we never even existed and nobody knew us ever
This life is such a jumbled up puzzle box
Will one life be enough for us to unravel them all?
Who knows the answer
Who can stand tall?
And yet we point the finger and blame it all
If we knew the truth of it all
Would we still be here
And not be where we really belong?
Think about this
Peace ✌🏽
Shalini, this felt like watching someone open a cosmic diary and let the pages flutter out into the wind — little girl, wise woman, green-eyed wonder, all tangled together in the sweetest, most chaotic dance. I adored the way you let yourself shrink and expand from line to line, like you’re trying on different versions of yourself to see which one fits today.
Your whole poem moves like someone pacing through a dream asking, “Wait… does any of this make sense?” and somehow the confusion becomes its own kind of beauty. The way you talk about truth flipping, certainty dissolving, saints contradicting, yesterday arguing with today — it’s wonderfully human. You made not-knowing feel like an adventure instead of a failure.
And that image of heaven laughing at our seriousness? Perfect. Like the universe is gently nudging us and saying, “Relax, you dramatic earthlings, you’re doing your best.”
A playful, searching, delightfully unraveled piece — like holding a snow globe full of questions and shaking it just to watch the glitter fall.
This poem feels like someone holding up a mirror and seeing both child and adult reflected at once.
It begins with wonder stars twinkling, the moon shyly glowing innocence still alive inside.
The speaker admits that certainty has collapsed, leaving only questions, upside‑down truths, fragile doubts.
There is longing to run, to play with angels, to resist the labels of age and time.
The voice trembles between awe and fragility, confessing to feeling small, belittled, like a green pea.
Illusion becomes the thread: what we think we know dissolves, leaving us blindfolded in a shifting world.
Each day overturns the last, right and wrong changing places, wisdom and foolishness trading masks.
The divine perspective is imagined as laughter, watching human pride stumble with a single slip.
Life itself is pictured as a puzzle box, too vast for one lifetime to unravel.
And in the end, the poem is a plea for peace a reminder that truth may be mystery, yet wonder remains.