They came from the cold, outer skies.
We knew them as the Strangers.
They said that they were not divine,
and they hadn't come to change us.
But we were young, and they moved among
us, as special friends or angels.
They gave us strength when we were down,
and didn't play the angles.
Us kids from cults. Endured insults.
We were vermin in the manger.
Us kids from cults were plagued by faults
of personality and derangement.
Us kids from cults. As young adults:
weaned from pernicious danger.
Stolen was our family life
in court proscribed arrangements.
And so it goes, and so it goes,
life goes on in circles;
What goes around soon rebounds
in dizzy psychic cycles.
They taught us well: to be ourselves,
to walk to our own horizon.
To know the price of real wealth,
and the worth of our devisin'.
I am an alien. Mammalian.
The heir. And the true good son.
And mother gives her special power:
to know I am the One!
The One who was, the One who does,
the One who is Messiah.
But prophets lead such lonely lives
that surely end in fire.
So you see, I can't flee.
I must change appearance;
by morphing back from white to black
and adding subtle variants.
And so it goes, and so it goes,
life goes on in circles;
What goes around soon rebounds
in crazy cosmic cycles.
David SmithWhite
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-the-strangers/
