My License

My ID, all say it

That I am a man of 22

I look heavy, and unfit

I am he, a mustached man in a purple hat

A man of mystery

Rather he, an emperor that tramples states

A hero from history

I wear a mask to hide my face

I wear a cloak to hide my body

As I am from an unknown place

A ghost, a secret to everybody

Rather I am this man of a house

So quiet and kept

A man who loves his family

For me they have wept

As I see my face with hatred

So ugly and hideous

I shatter the glistening mirror

And I do it with bliss

As I dream to be another

With a reputation so great

But then I remember this weak, young face

That I so passionately hate

If it wasn’t for my family

I’d be dead so long ago

A crippled mental patient

Of which nobody knows.