Matt here.....I can't help but play a ghost... blaugh
THis time I am rrunning out of time
Poems are goin thru my head!
On the outside of my onion
people see an outcast.
An odd ball as me.
A person with no group.
Are they right or wrong?
On another layer that some see,
I am a mentor or helper.
They ask me a question,
the answer comes out very quick.
I read up on odd things for those facts.
Under that there is the scout.
A hard work child who
runs the library well.
With his mind and muscle he helps
his troop out all the time.
The artist is near the core.
A person who might become
a star of wonders,
laden by work and hardship.
Few see me as him,
drawing out his heart.
In my core there is fear.
The four minds of me.
One, the mischief maker or risk taker.
Two, the retainer and consciousness.
Three, the silent and muscle.
Four is me the thinker without a lie.
I drop the facades and lie toward
a different kind of mind.
A fire will rage in this broken body,
but I strive to live and think.
Hey, I am just living it out.
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So is written in the The black book a page to add to all other....
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