Behind each poem, that I write
hides a different face of me.
One of love and caring,
one sadness and sorrow,
one of frustration and pain,
and one of future sight and wisdom.
Now which one will I be?
Come to think of it,
which one is the real me?
Now that I am confused,
I cannot even remember my name,
let alone who I am.
Is my name Dodgy, Danny Boy, Walter M., or is it David.
Maybe they are all the same person that I am.
You can take your choice;
see if you can find the real face that’s me.
I know this, I know this! Your real face is your Stratford face! Go on, I'm right aren't I? Ez
Many Names but the hearts just the same, weather its dodgy or plain old dave we where all blessed the first time we heard your name...10 thank you..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You are David Harris, just that and that is more than enough for any of us who so love your poems for that is whom you truly be, no other name is good enough for thee.~~~~~~~~ marci.m.