I am
a writer,
a dreamer,
a scribbler,
a creator and destroyer of worlds.
(or is it mere words?)
I am
a warrior in chains,
a grounded pilot,
a climber of the mountains of electrons
that float across the CRT
of my workday life.
I am
a father,
a son,
and a ghost filled with holes
which have been torn into
the cotton fabric of my life
by experience.
But I wear these grease-stained rags
with pride,
for they ward off the chill
of insecurity
and give me shelter
from the emotional storms
of my existence.
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