-The Mandolin Man-

I saw him again today,
The man with the feathered hat.
He was in my dreams again,
and he always he carries his mandolin.
He never speaks except through that instrument;
I guess he really doesn't have to.

I believe he is the only person who understands me.
Or doesn't try to understand me, which is a lot easier on me.
No one sees the world around them, they are half-blind,
But the mandolin man is blind.
He doesn't tell me I am crazy,
He doesn't ignore me,
He loves me like no one has, or does, or will.
When I tell him of the beauty of the world,
He cries for joy,
And plays velvet chords
That massage my weary heart.

When I tell him of the horrors of the world,
He simply says nothing,
For I know he, like I, am afraid.

The mandolin man comes to me when I need him
In my dreams,
And plays his sweet music,
Listening to me tell him all about the world
Around him.

Lotus Watcher
<lotus_watcher@hotmail.com>