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I once knew a dream,it was soft and sweet,
and it stroked me with gentle fingers,
in the hours before the birds would tweet.

I thought that love was a word we never mean,
and even though I heard it again and again
I could never let it out, in case I was seen.

I once felt that I could stand, upright, proud and tall,
But I was a man called unusual, soft and sensitive,
and all I really learnt was that in the end we all have our falls.

I thought that hate was something we all couldn't stand,
before I found men with souls stained pitch black,
and learnt that in their lives they lent out fists and not hands.

I once longed for mastery over something, something so very dear,
and I strove for it with all my heart, again and again I worked,
only to find that all I really wanted was mastery over my fears.

I thought I heard your name somewhere on the wind,
I believed I had seen my face reflected in your eyes,
only to know that pride is one of the most dangerous sins.

I once felt a strand of grass, under fingers soft and warm,
and wondered why they always made me end up cut and torn,
always partly broken, bruised and faintly scarred this form.

I thought that I would go somewhere great when fully grown,
but that was just a lie I seemed to have made up for myself,
before I reached out and touched the facts, before I saw my broken home.