Is This Who We Are Your poem has a sense of free verse, and it reflects the complexity and multiplicity of life, the world, and the human experience. However, it can benefit from some revisions to improve coherence, flow, and clarity of meaning. Here is a revised version: Breathe, and begin anew, Life is birthing, becoming, dying too. We are being, coming, going, always unfolding. Falling apart, crashing, burning, yearning, But also singing, feeling, cohering. Quietly tortured, solemnly connected, and sometimes rejected. Together, yet alone, and alone, yet together, Melancholy can inspire disgust, but we can be happy. We are shifting, breathing, transforming. We may feel sappy, aped, and suffocated, Unable to sit, we fidget, spin, and are inundated With constant noise, too fast, past, present, future. Uncertainly wondering, certainty escapes, Order, chaos, and violence relate. We may be healing, repairing, consoling, and punishing. We seek, let go, and annul, Going relentlessly, until we stop, or we’re shot. Encountering, blabbing, shunning, and punning. We may be accepting, waiting, Music can be to our ears, but we’re not hearing, Proving, convincing, and wishing for sense—nonsense. Money, honey, and money, Sweet nectar, and sexting or texting. We may be awakening, numbing, or dumbing down. Round, dulling, and mulling, Heaven and hell, our purgatory, and nothingness. Here, there, and everywhere we are drifting. We may be praying for nothing, counting us in and counting us out. Power, hierarchy, patriarchy, and structure, control, and fall apart. Fluid whispers, secrets of death, unkempt, betrayal, avarice, vanity, and insanity. We conceal, hope, want, and take, Baking, shaking, breaking, giving, living, and loving. Walking, talking, stalking, repressing, oppressing, and confessing. We start again, begin at the end, making and faking. Discord, sowing, sewing, reaping, eating, fcking, shtting, and spitting. The masked and the grotesque monkeys, nothing but man and sometimes hate. Smoking gun, no pun, trained, and pained reprieves. Vacating, swimming, swimming, vacationing through cosmic dust turned to rust. Heavy metal, jazzed up, opened to three, and free. We are split in two, exploding, converging, and hurtling, Grieving fire, earth, and soul’s water, wriggling, wrinkling, shrinking, and growing. Showing and knowing, groaning and moaning, rubbing and tugging. Letting go again, begin again, we’re never satiated, with empty minds and vacant hearts. Shoving, then loving, to love again, and begin again. More, more, more, do and don’t, walk alone, and do and want, but do not want. Shook up, shaken down, imprisoned minds, time. We can find a little less in this beautiful mess, Progress reasoned, unseasoned seasons, scientific, terrific for all reasons. Verification, validation, and suppositions, Making sense of the nonsensical, turning, yearning, and burning. Kneeling, killing, sitting, and forgiving, empty field, filled, and fulfilled toward the only end. To embrace it all, and begin again, We live, we love, and we begin again, Let it go,