I like to keep myself
This principle, isn’t intended to hide skeletons in my closet
but it is part of my skeleton
part of who I am, that I don’t want other people to see.
We become like the people we admire
but the real mystery, is why we admire them.
I can write something down
from my soul
and they won’t know me—though, they think they do.
I admire the man who does what he wants
He makes up his mind
to do it.
This is why I admire prison
where the guards have a man, locked in a box.
They are paid, to work in prison
and only he, is free.
His captive state, is temporary
This is what I find seductive—
that a man, can decide, his fate.
If they follow him, into his imagination
they will get lost.
It’s a rugged land, with volcanoes
that only he
strewn with flint, and obsidian glass.
patiently, with his candle
in his castle, with a secret room, behind the bookcase
where his safecracking tools are kept
where he takes his partner,
to steal the truth
and deeper still, is another room.
How many men, die with a secret?
they are the origins of trees
That’s what this man is
He doesn’t negotiate himself
There is something there
in the darkness
that wasn’t there