(20 minute poetry)

They think it's the old me and they see what they want,
continuing on they believe in the old one, the one that's long gone.

I can't disillusion them those see what they want to men and so I live up to their own view of who they think I am.

It's a slap in the face though that they look to me first when things start to go wrong.

They fear what they don't know and I'm not saying it ain't so, but trust goes a long way.

I am still king if the mountain that was is still me and whatever they see it's not me that they're seeing.

Being realistic
they just ain't artistic
enough
to understand.