Poem by David L O’Nan : 41 Candles

41 Candles

Quiet boy, in fear, in fascination
Who is to know?  The shun is real
The feeling of pain is real?  I live
and have lived counting colorful circles
when I close my eyes - and dream
dream of love, what I perceived love to be,
what I perceived friendliness to be, to not understand
when kindness is foolish to some,
I always feel to be the stranger, the satire 
the sarcasm, and the saturation for exploitation of every
misstep.  Shining light straight to my every move.
Yet, to feel ignored is the most smoke in this fire.  
There is something in the music to keeps me moving inside,
when the outside world shuts off.