There is a place that lies between who I was and whom I am becoming.

A place of pain and sorrow and  a place of joy and celebration.

Much of life has been snagged upon the cruel world, where injustice mongers and hatred reigns

The thread that holds the very fibers of my being often grow thin, unweave and lose there place

Everyday is a start of finding the seams.

Who I was, was not a bad thing. Just misinterpreted.

Lost in the translation of who I wanted to be and what was settled for

Values change in the process of popularity and recognition.

The songs I sang often rang out of tune.

The cavern was made deep, and new seams had to be found.

Whom I am becoming can only be outlined by who shapes me.

It does not make sense to most, yet I do not need approval

what sets apart the present and the past is what unites it, the scars.

Yay, thou I walk through the valley of the shadow of death… for thou art with me.

Finding the Seams, tracks my progress to know and be known.