If you replace every plank… Is it still the same ship? If you replace every part of a man… Is he still… I found a photo from ten years back. Same name, same face, same suit, same slack. But the man in that frame believed different things, Loved different people, pulled different strings. He’s gone now. Replaced board by board. Same hull, different captain, different sword. My team’s not my team, my role’s not my role, My mission statement’s changed, my values evolved. Every plank I’ve replaced, I had my reasons But when does renovation become treason? Am I still me, or just the shape they see? A vessel wearing what they need of me. Ship of Theseus sailing on Every plank is new, but I’m not gone. The beliefs I’d die for at twenty-five, I’ve buried quiet just to stay alive. The friends who built this with their hands Some I outgrew. Some couldn’t stand The man I was becoming, plank by plank. Now I stand at the helm of something strange. My vision’s not my vision, my voice has changed its tone, The company I started doesn’t feel like my own. Every board I swapped, I thought I’d stay the same But the carpenter becomes the frame. Am I still me, or just the shape they see? A vessel wearing what they need of me. Ship of Theseus sailing on Every plank is new, but I’m not gone. Maybe the question’s built wrong from the start. It’s not about the planks—it’s about the heart That keeps choosing to sail, keeps choosing to build, Keeps remaking the thing that the storm nearly killed. I’m not who I was. I won’t be who I am. The only constant is the man who gives a damn. I am still me, more than the shape they see. Still the vessel carrying what matters to me. Ship of Theseus sailing on Every plank is new, but I’m not gone. Same name. New man. Same hull. New hands. Still sailing. Still becoming.
