Poetry / Balanced Equation

I am David Niven- sharp, selective with my quips.
I am Peter Sellers- inept, bumbling my way through life.
I am a well-oiled engine- purring just a fraction above the threshold of human hearing.
I am a creaking hinge- the sound that grates and betrays in the night.
I am a wide-eyed child- full of the joy for the unknown, the mysterious.
I am a cataract-riddled old man- blind to everything but myopic memory.
I am a virile man- aggression in skin.
I am a vanquished woman- impaled by things not of my choosing.
I am an idiot-savant- pi to the thousandth place.
I am a dullard- square pegs jammed into round holes.
I am Spiderman- netted by the gossamer strands of my own spinning.
I am Carnage- splintered, jagged sabers jutting from a hate-filled mouth.
I am sack cloth- jute, stiff.
I am satin- soft, shimmering.
I am an inky stain on parchment- ugly, insidious.
I am a ghost in snow- fey, fleeting.