I had read this poem a while ago... and after a bit of googling managed to find it.... think it describes me best.....

Let them be as flowers....
Always watered.... fed.... guarded.... admired.... but harnessed to a pot of dirt.
I would rather be a tall, ugly weed...
Clinging on cliffs, like an eagle....
Wind-wavering above high, jagged rocks....
To have broken through the surface of stone....
To live, to feel exposed to the madness of the vast, eternal sky....
To be swayed by the breezes of an ancient sea, carrying my soul, my seed....
Beyond the mountains of time....
Or into the abyss of the bizarre....
I'd rather be unseen and if then shunned by everyone....
Than to be a pleasant-smelling flower....
Growing in clusters in the fertile valley....
Where they're praised, handled, and plucked by greedy, human hands....
I'd rather smell of musty, green stench than of sweet, fragrant lilac....
If I could stand alone, strong and free, I'd rather be a tall, ugly weed.

"Identity"
by Julio Noboa Polanco