i have a plan

i try to be a superman
i try as hard as i just can
i quickly step to the window
suddenly i'm not quite sure
then comes a windbow
it wispers like a lure
but i stand strong and certain
and dig my claws into the curtain
i thought it would be more simple
to rescue the world around
but now i feel like a pimple
who is losing ground

sad, but what to do?

there is this boy
that seldom smiles
his eyes are tired and searching
his head seems heavy

he wears broken shoes
he smells offensively sometimes
his shirts are dirty
and he drivels

he is very good in natural science
he knows all the plants
he knows better then the prof
he takes too much work

he listens when i offer him to talk
he says that he knows that the others find him strange
he nods when asked if he is sad and in despair
he makes appointments with the doctor but he never turnes up

head and body

more of what

do you belong?
i do belong to myself.
but who am i?
a place to go?
a friend to talk to?
a smile to be smiled into a strangers eyes?
tea, cauliflower, steel, melting chocolate, wood, wire, fire?
a tone, music, sound, melody?
found, lost, some memory?
ironically me and somebody

well.

all this. each for some seconds
and then again
not what i am but what i think i am
perhaps
hot tea, broken down cauliflower, diluted steel, old melting chocolate, burned wood, living wire, whishy-washy fire
and do i belong to the world?
my thoughts how do they connect? are they diluted cauliflower? wishy-washy wire? old fire?