I build fences. I build walls.
I am both architect and builder of my solitude.
I am a lone man;
A single number.
A unit of myself.
But I do not stay in one place.
I rove about;
I wander.
I have seen the world's colours.
I know her pride.
I know her shame.
I am unclothed; naked.
I am bare; all you see is my eyes
And my heart;
Black with beauty;
Orange with regret;
Dusty in solitude.
I am me;
The man you call mad;
Whose sights are odd,
And whose voice sounds remote.
The mad man
You look back at when
I pass you on the street.
I am the one
For I commune with her
Devoid of all pretensions;
Bare...