Looking for my (S)elf
Because I am the long-haired poet
and the teenager,
that visited Sartre
and Jim,
and loved them both the same.
And I am the little kiddo
who believed anything
and everything
was possible;
and still is.
And I am the young
madman
who touched the mystery,
and the had his wings burned by the sun.
And I am the wannabe saint,
who drowned in "sin"
and loved every second of it.
And I am the Magician
and the Master
of signs and symbols,
and a (not so) humble
servant;
still looking for his way
Home.
I am the perfect imperfection
and everything
in
between.
I am poetry
and I am Magic.
And I am
a simple bloke
walking a dog.
Reading out his poems to the stones
getting ready
to JUMP
again.