Michael Thygesen

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“Dear boy, why do you cry in the window? ”
“Well sir, I cry over my fair lady.”
“Yes, but why look down at the river flow
Whilst you do this, you look awfully shady.”
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I can't see them anymore,
Not while in the city.
These artificial lights act as a shield,
Blocking out the real light,
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Weaving in and out of these clouds of white
Ever flying and flying, keep searching till night.
Wind hits these wings and try as I might
I cannot go down, I'm as high as a kite.
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I wonder, 'Have I lived well? ' As they call?
I asked myself on a brisk, early morn
I have no famous name to show to all,
My love has been lost; you may see me mourn.
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While looking in the mirrors
I notice my many reflections looking back at me.
It was then that I noticed,
Their are many images of Michael Thygesen,
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I can be one person with someone,
Or I can be someone with another person.
I can be a completely different person.
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