Poems and Proverbs of the Crazy

The Journey and the Guide

Who am I?
I ask myself.
Who are you?
They question me.
What am I?
Invades my mind.
What is he?
They whisper together.
I am a man.
I try to say.
He thinks he's a man.
They drown me out.
I am a human.
I try to tell them.
He isn't like us.
They tell others.
Listen to me!
I yell at them.
Listen to him.
They mock me.
Fine,
I say,
I won't let you define me,
To bicker amongst yourselves,
For your false values.
I need only my own belief,
My own faith in myself to survive.
But am I only to survive?
Isn't there other things greater?
A purpose?
A goal?
In surviving I lose nothing,
But I also gain nothing.
So a search I began,
A search for something,
A thing I know not.
And it came to me one day,
In the form of a pitiful man.
He looked at me,
And I to him,
And I saw pity in his eyes.
This man of whom has lower status than I,
Sees fit to take pity on me?
Why do you insult me so?
I ask indignantly.
Insult you?
Asked he.
I wish to help you.
He offered.
What can you offer?
I challenged,
And he then grinned at me.
I have a purpose, young sir,
Said he,
I have a goal.
And while I am in this pitiful state,
I know where i shall go.
And he told me of a man he never met,
A man who saved the world.
How did he do this?
Asked I.
He died for you,
He took your suffering from you.
This man angered me,
Filling my head with lies.
Take my suffering!?
Do I not suffer now?
I raged openly,
But the man smile never wavered.
He held out a book,
Small and black,
Worn and rugged.
He told me it was his only treasure,
He only thing he really needed to be happy.
I asked him why he would give it to me,
And he told me,
You need a guide.
Something to help you along.
And he walked on,
Leaving without another word.
Silenced with awe,
At the stranger's words.
Silently I stare down,
At this little book.
A guide,
He said,
The man's only treasure.
I open it up,
Only to read,
Three,
Simple,
Words.
The Holy Bible.