I'm human, but this, I can not prove.
I bleed, but no one trust my blood.
I breath, but who can see breathe.
I morn, but who knows another's sorrow.
I hope, but who can trust another's motives.
I am counterfeit is said of me, with righteous indignation.
But alas, I'm human, but this, I can not prove.

I can so relate with this one. You realy are good at your writings. Please keep sharing them with us.

you can prove it to yourself.
you can trust your own blood.
you can feel your own breath.
you know your own sorrow.
you can trust your motives.
who says you are counterfeit?
you are human, no proof required.

you have all the evidence you need right here in this poem.

"the role of the poet is not to prove but to affirm"
Jean Cocteau