I Was Born A Dreamer
by David C Page
It was a secret, of course, even to me.
To my parents, I was "frustrating."
To my teachers, I was "not working up to potential."
To my peers, I was a "loner."
To me, I was an alien.
It has been a me and them world.
They did it their way, I did it mine.
They watched the surface of things,
I looked into them.
I saw relationships between things,
They saw things.
They learned to use equations and formulas,
I estimated answers.
They played baseball.
I sat in tree tops.
They rode their bycicles someplace.
I just rode my bycicle.
They slept at night.
I swam in darkness.
They lived according to rules.
I found order in chaos.
They lived today.
I lived yesterday, today and tomorrow.
They needed a reason to do anything.
I cried over nothing at all.
They survived on facts.
I survived their facts.
They know because they have learned.
I know because I know.
I was born a dreamer,
when pulled from the womb,
the drum beat I heard was set to rhythm by poets
and artists who had preceded me.
I found their parental guidance on gallery
walls and in music.
I was born a dreamer, I will die a dreamer,
and in between,
I will have seen a glimpse of eternity.
Courtesy of my friend, Zombie Kitty:
SOS (Anything But Love)