When you look at me, who do you see?
They say I don't really exist,
I don't resist.
There's no phoenix in me,
just a long lasting burning candle
that finally will stop burning
really at the end of the rope.
When you touch me, what do you feel?
They tell me I'm cold,
I need to melt before I'm old.
Let some feelings go and evaporate
to be able to feel again and create.
When you talk to me, what do you hear?
They state I'm repetitive,
limited in speech and thoughts.
A mediocre poet, a want to be wannabe
an empty dictionary.
So would you want to be me?
A man who's yelling for years to let him out!
Still a boy crying because of scary dreams in the night.
A human who needs to be held thight.
Still a child afraid of a fight
A father who doesn't do everything wright.
Still a person in search of the light.
God, my sweet Lord,
if my name is still written in the palm of your hand
if I'm not a lost soul,
guide me to a place where I can see,
to a top, a sky, an eternity.
Fill me up with all that is You
and then tell who I am, honestly and true.