I build fences. I build walls.
I am both architect and builder of my solitude.
I am a lone man;
A single number.
A unit of myself.
But I do not stay in one place.
I rove about;
I wander.
I have seen the world's colours.
I know her pride.
I know her shame.
I am unclothed; naked.
I am bare; all you see is my eyes
And my heart;
Black with beauty;
Orange with regret;
Dusty in solitude.
I am me;
The man you call mad;
Whose sights are odd,
And whose voice sounds remote.
The mad man
You look back at when
I pass you on the street.
I am the one
Who knows the world.
For I commune with her
Devoid of all pretensions;
Bare...
The face of reality in being. I will be on the look out for your writes. Best.
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Thank you @dougj34. Just a theory; that the bare mad man faces life just as he came to it...; bare and without pretensions.
Thanks again. I'll look out for yours too.
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Interesting, I have a theory that ego knows no boundaries, it will take control of any form who allows it to do its deeds. Now, those who are bare and without pretensions may live with a bridled ego, that would be a great victory. Just sayin', I do not know that with any certainty. Best.
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Wow... It is an interesting theory, living with a bridled ego.. Thanks..
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