I am but a carrier for my soul,
The part of me that's greater than the whole.
And when everything is done and said
It's a different person who's inside my head.
No feet of clay or facts-of-life,
No living on a thin-edged-knife,
The inside me is not the same
As what's outside and bears my name.
The outward signs, the "what you see"
Is but the smallest part of me.
Iceberg-like there's more beneath
If only you're prepared to seek.
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