Odd

Being odd I can handle;

 its being normal that’s hard.

 Like a wrinkle in time,

 mime after mime,

 has laughed and has cried.

 Been born than died.

But not me, no not I,

 I play in the rain.

 Enjoy both pleasure and pain,

 forget what I’ve lost-

 what can I gain?

Bedheads, redheads,

 wet-behind- the-ears,

 ten- or twenty years;

 so I’m different than most,

 no ones the same.

 To me life’s an instant,

 gone from the sky,

in the blink of an eye.

Moments are treasure,

 far beyond measure.

 Life is not made of houses or cars,

 cotton or leather;

 those will soon pass same as the weather.

jesse inman 2012

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