I’m not who I should be. I’m not who I pretend to be. But the me that shows up is honest, Searching for connection but afraid of being. I’m a song, I’m a dance, Sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Like a melody that swings from major into minor, Not stuck, not broken — just human, a refiner. I’m carrying old wounds, but still I hope. Doesn’t matter how many, doesn’t matter how rough. I put myself on the outside, always looking in. I write with loyalty, regret, and a quiet strength within. I’m a song, I’m a dance, Sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Like a melody that swings from major into minor, Not stuck, not broken — just human, a refiner. Not stuck. Not broken. Just human — but with rhythm. Always shaping, adjusting, improving, surviving, learning. I’ve been through things, I don’t pretend I haven’t. I'll take the hit, sit with it, then turn it into a lyric. I’m a song, I’m a dance, Sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Like a melody that swings from major into minor, Not stuck, not broken — just human, a refiner. Andy.B 01.05.2026
