I can move mountains,

but more often than not I like to make them.

When people see me, they smile,

but they also shudder and cower away.

I am warm, comforting, and fulfilling,

but at the same time I am hard, harsh,

I can leave people hollow and cold upon the ground.

Many stroke my soft outline with fondness

and cut their fingers upon my jagged edges.

I am a thought,

I am an idea,

I am a word,

I am an object,

I am a feeling. 

I am a show,

a story,

a game,

a piece of this puzzle we call life,

and yet a puzzle in my own.

I am the thing everyone knows of,

yet not everyone has known.

I am the ugliness behind broken dreams,

and the beauty that lights our world,

that makes it move, 

whether those movements be good

or bad.

I am a revolutionist,

a mover and changer of people.

I am simple, and complicated;

joyful, and sad;

harsh, and sweet.

I am all these things

and many, many more.

I am everything.

I am love.