Let me be known is my flaw, my blemish. On an island I’d be known as a mad man speaking with the sand, hear me out is my plea I don’t care if it’s right or wrong just listen to me. I have no rivals yet my own trials within my abode which seeks its home in the unknown. o I ease with you so I may be with two and relax myself in the presence of this some one else. And speak of things that mostly mean nothing yet it’s of major importance that we have some suppportance. A way of connecting, relating, in all of us a being. We crave to be known and not be alone. If we could be content with self without anyone else wed complete the task of abolishing with a whack the tree of wrong and right and within our own selves we’d have the abundance of lifes abode-ness complete and with in us. Humble we’d be never to say hey over here listen to me, look at me do I fit in? If not I can change again, and then again. For I boil inside for you to not hide. Place your feelings of me and what you’re seeing, what you’re believing, isn’t this the way we feel? Isn’t this what is real? Let us all jump, wouldn’t you do it too? It’s the way of life. I must be crazy you see I agree to disagree. And your way may not be the same as mine. I’d rather climb. That jumping is a long way down and all I hear is horror sounds. I’m going to climb even though there may only be silence found. Yes I too am the same as you let me be know. But not to the point where I fall into the kayos of the uncaring domicile. Yet still, let me be known.

Ryan Brady O’Reilly
11/2001