I hear a knock upon the door,
I ask, “Who can this be?”
A voice answers clearly back,
With the reply that, “It’s me!”

How can it be me, for I am here?
Have I lost touch with reality?
Is there more than one of me?
Do I have a split personality?

It can’t be me, it must be you,
For I have always been me.
But what if it is not really you,
Then who can it possibly be?

If it isn’t you then I don’t hope it’s not me.
For you know what trouble he can be.
When something goes wrong and I ask who it was,
Everyone shouts, “It’s not me”.

If it’s not me that causes far too much trouble,
It would better if it were me and not me that I hear.
But I’m almost certain that I am not knocking the door
Because I am me, and I am in here.

This question does perplex me much
My mind has a terrible fit.
Maybe it’s not you, me, or I
But could be a he, she, or it.

But perhaps it’s not he, she, or an it
But a him, her, or a them out there.
But if they are here, then they’re not them
Or could they be a he or she pair.

It’s definitely not a why, where, or when,
But it might be a who or a what.
I think that all of this wondering
Has developed into a pronoun rut.