When I was growing up I was sure of two things. 1. I was retarded and 2. that I was adopted. - eventually I learned that 1. no and 2. no.
however, there is lingering doubt remaining about both only
because my nature is different and odd and my nurture is fantastically
I was also told that I couldn't carry a tune and was in speech
therapy because I was monotone and thought to be tone deaf - both of
these ended life being not true as I have become an accomplished
musician and a pretty good singer.
If I was so motivated - this would be the start of my autobiography - or my memoirs as they call them.
what follows is probably terrible or terrific...
the great idiot of us all
the rain sleeps;
passed the nickel
through gates of wrath
observedly pounded on
doors and windows
doors and windows.
slept under lit porticoes
and flooded swails.
- last night I wrote this but may take it back