I'm different,
I'm unusually not the same
something askew
my thought patterns
something I can not feign.
I'm weird
and won't play this underfoot
playing games in my
macho mind
her body as my book
I'm old
but really yet still young
24 years
of old man thoughts
a real life mr. button
I lie,
and pretend I tell the truth
I think I see
so wise and free
while I wait at the laid off both
I'm a joke,
a play of a clown of a prophet
a man whose blind
behind his eyes
a piece of wood in a grommet.
Copyright (c) David DeSantis
David DeSantis
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-real-me-36/
