Perfection is not in his blood
He never tried to be like them
He needs none of their approval
He is an ideal concept of peculiarity
He could be puzzling moreover mystifying
His eyes are mirrors of a profound soul
They are anxious yet consuming
Their sheer glimpse dissects me to pieces
His face emits the marriage of darkness and solidity
Its contours define bittersweet memories of his childhood
The miseries and pleasures of his maturity
His passion for music is timeless
It soothes for inner peace and wonders
There is a thin line between his humor and mood swings
At one point he was happy the next is a darkly grumpy
While his obsessive compulsive is disturbing
His impulsive decisions can be surprising
His comprehension is remarkable
Carefully carved by a rich past
His heart is as fragile as his ego
It carries buried wounds and kindness
He is the world’s forgotten boy
But not who searches and destroys
He is not just one of the many
He is who he is to me