Threads that make me ME

The moods that flit across my face

Are way too slow to match the pace

    Of my tumbling streams of thought.

I've ideas, plans and then some more,

Dreams and stories in my store,

    Whether or not I ought.

For some may say my childhood asks

That grins and giggles be my tasks

    But I really don't agree.

My questions, tantrums, even whine,

Are threads that deftly intertwine, 

   To make me fully ME.