I am a thinker, a liar, a magic bean buyer.
I am a philosopher, a danger, a wonder;
A thunder, a soul, a thinker of magical things.
I am a room, part of birth and doom,
A soul flung to the far reaches of the universe
A lost man, blind in dark alleys.
Sweeping meadows with a soft breeze
That is what gives me hope
Clouds rolling across azure skies: that’s the dope.
Wonder is my fodder
My stories are spun with just enough truth
Just enough facts, that they can be drunk like juice.
I don’t have any faults, but posses all the virtues
Or is the none of the virtues and all the faults?
I can’t decide. I will just go down this path and find out.
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