Am I or What

Engrossed with grossness which is to say grande;
I guess I could say large but then the first though would then land;
Directly into your mind, like the battering ram slams;
Like the melted baby bottle duck that I drank before I swam.

I'm a swami to some, and just a sham to others, a shame to those unmentioned;
While I hide under the covers, my dreams take place from inside of my mind;
The colours that emanate are so bright, I'm surprised I'm not blind;
Then again I've poor sight, in hindsight that's just fine.

Foreshadowing from the shadows is as effective as howling in a wind tunnel;
While the wind projected is artificial, the sound can be muddled;
When the ground becomes muddy, from the water mixing with dirt;
It's hard to stay in clean clothes without feelings getting hurt.

It's hard to say with mean tones, I like you as a friend?;
It's to hard to listen softly, and attempt to comprehend;
It's hard to be a wannabe and try not to pretend;
It's easy to give up trying when you never tried to begin.

Stuck with this path, although I sometime travel astray;
Always coming back, an so I often say today;
Am I gonna find what it is that I'm looking for before I lay;
In this awful game of chess, and we play it everyday nonetheless.

In the grand scheme of things, I wonder whats the picture on my puzzle;
When all the pieces are connected will I see it, Will I discover;
With all the fish in the sea, and all the birds in the sky, and all the rain from the clouds;
As they float on passing by, like the days and the time, never stopping to rewind;
What is it that I'm looking for but just can't seem to find?