There once was a man down on his luck
he held the future in his hands, but in the past he was stuck.
He was sarcastic and ironic,
an Englishman who claimed love was singularly platonic,
this Englishman was unknown and he had no name
He believed he was different somehow,
but he was just the same,
he trundled along roads over and over
life was a muddle and he would constantly look over his shoulder.
Many a thoughts had crossed this worried mans mind
how can i do so and so and will my disease make me blind?,
Will i fulfill my ambitions, will my insecurities make me unkind,
the burdening questions would eat him through the night, in his head he had endless thoughts the darkness left him thinking of a deathly plight.
since he was a child he had dreamt of being a man
and now the time had come he wondered at how things were so much easier and happier as a child.
But time had rolled by and he had to roll on with it,
in time he hoped he would be accepted into society, but he didn't see that day coming soon.
so he kept on trundling down back streets, enjoying his endless companions, the silent stars and the moon.
One day he became old and haggard and he dreamt of being that man of his youth, the man who traveled many a lands, for after all he thought whats more than a man with the future in his hands.
This old man soon past on and nobody came to his burial,
he had deserted family and friends he should have saved, on his gravestone these final thought was engraved.
Its always best to be who you are and not who you were, live in the present and discard with the past, life's a gift, live every second of it while it lasts.
