Being or seeming? At first I was scared. I was timid. I tried to please, but got in trouble anyway. But when the changes came, I was empty. What you see is the real me. I was worried. I hated my image, but I ruminated. I did things that should have been unspeakable. I felt guilty. I felt free. But I was still looking for the real me.
What lurks unknown in fearful fraughted towns It flits in shadows watching silently With dire eyes and looming eight feet tall The birdman waits for you to walk alone He slowly stalks his prey throughout the night And never moves unless it’s back is turned At first you’ll notice him just up the street But by that time it will have been too late You walk but when you turn around again His owl-like face the last sight that you’ll see