How Many Like Me? (Poetry - Non-rhyming)

How many like me have come before, and why I ask I do not know
I am myself, and strong at that, but still these questions dog my thoughts.
How many like me I ask myself, that walked this land and left their tracks,
and might I find if I did look their footprints staring back at me.

How many like me have come before, and left their mark in history?
And can I measure up to them, or are there none like me, but me?
Why do I think the way I do, where have I gone to reach this place,
what does it take to become me; is it a process others took?

You and I are not alike, I know this? Or perhaps I think;
and if we are, should we two meet, or hide ourselves until we part?
If we should find ourselves the same, would we two be the ones we are,
how many like us would we see pass if we should take the time to look?

If I should find me walking by, and look upon and know myself,
would this enlighten or despair, or produce results I cannot guess?
Can I survive another me, an ‘I’ I’ve never seen or heard,
And could this me survive myself? Can I make choices based on that?

How many like me have come before, and reached this point and thought these thoughts?
How many have sat in quietude, with roiling thunder deep inside,
When lightning crashes do they see, in distant light and noise and heat?
Or is it only fantasy, inside my head like so much else?

How many like me have writ these words, have cried these tears and known not why,
have spent their lives just ‘looking in’ to lives they cannot understand?
How many like me have sent their hopes, winging toward some future I,
In desperation wishing that, some day a me will make it clear?

These words are only messages, sent towards a one I’ll never know,
Who waits and wonders wordlessly, of things unclear to even them.
And if it’s you I send it to, take heart for you are not alone,
An ‘I’ is here, for you to meet, though we may never touch or speak.

You aren’t the first, I’d say to you, if only you could hear my words,
Take comfort, though the road is hard, because our tracks will guide you on,
How many we’ve been I do not know, but in my time the tracks were deep,
And when we reach the end then I; and you, and us, and we- will meet.