I

Have made

Myself

Become

What

I am

Through
Time

A single bird
Flies
From one pole of our planet
To the other

In one year

An new hatched cuckoo
Will push
One egg
After another
Out of
Its borrowed nest

Until it
Is the sole surviving infant

Fostered
By birds

Of another feather

Survival
Is older
Than all collected memories

Achieved
A multitude of ways

History
Is
But a second
When measured
Against
The age old battle
For life

We walk
A tightrope

Each body
Bears its scars

And years tick by
So...

Softly

I cling to fantasies
Whilst travelling
One step

Then

One more

The waterflow sparkles, drawing me near
to peer in over the wishing well of poison and i cant get enough
its twinkling magic masks its lie
and i fade into the scenery.

its time to go but i cant seem to part
i havent made it all the way down
its a cut gone only halfway deep before it starts to scar.
You applaud me for what isnt mine to boast,
the borrowed prize of another,
parading me as the boy among giants.
it was a stolen dream, where i didnt belong,
when id dress up in my mothers pearls.

tangled demons of my mind obscure my view
i cant see friend from foe
the thrill of the fight keeps us awake
all though the dark night
my demons wear white and my angels cloaked in black
and i lay awake and wonder if theres any turning back.