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I am me.
Who are you?
People love perfect people.
That is not me.
That is nobody.
Only a façade
Hiding the trueness within
For trueness is not perfect.
In the darkened room
On the big screen
Live people and places
Who’s lives seem more real
Than my own
My heart breaks
And tears roll down my cheeks
Because I cannot live with them
In their make-believe world
Where the bad guys always die
(or get a life sentence with no parole)
And the hero always gets his girl
The Death Star is destroyed
When almost all hope is gone
And Rocky always wins
In the fifteenth round.
But then, movies are also
Always perfect.
Unlike me.
And in the books
Upon the shelves
Live people
Like in the movies
And though Arthur
Lancelot and Gawaine
All grow old
With gray in their hair
A turn of the page sends them
Back through the years
To a time when
Excalibur was new
And Camelot as well
How I wish my time went like that
So I might go back
To younger days
When the world was new
When there was magic
In the morning of a
Freshly fallen snow
On a winter’s day
And when monsters truly
Haunted the halls
When the lights were turned out
A time when dragons
Roamed the woods behind my house
And the tooth faerie visited
My pillow at night
Now the only magic
That I hear tell of
Is in my beloved movies and books
Washed away in the mists
Of a memory
That was once my mind
Yet the music plays on
Trumpets blare
And drums are beaten
A wave of noise washes over me
The music, the wonderful
Horrible, awesome
Music
So full, I wish I could
Bob along in it’s wake
Forever
Do you believe in rock’n’roll?
Can music save your mortal soul?
Can you teach me how to dance
Real slow?
Who am I?
I am me.
I am my music
I am my movies
I am my books
I am my stories
Stories that will live
Longer than me
And maybe my story
Will be written
And maybe I will be
Remembered
Just like Caser
Arthur, Lancelot
Or others
Who will be eternally remembered
Though their stories
Are more fiction then fact
For it is the stories
That will live on.