12

Someone used to say to me,
that I was something special,
and I was going to turn up one day
and change everything for the better.

Ive turned up to everywhere I've been so far,
And so far I'm nothing special.
A pretty average boy is not the something I was told I would be,
a mark on a paper is not who I am.


I was scared and lost and confused,
and cold and tired and dripping wet,
He took me in from the night
and told me I could stay as long as i needed to.

His loving door pulled open a disguise,
for he was not just a man.
He was magic and clever and wise.
He told me I'd always be special in his eyes.

He made me a drink and cooked my tea
and helped me bathe my woes.
And I slept and wept and smiled.
I had found such a brilliant might.

He told me he was old now.
Even though he was as old as me.
His eyes were weary and seemed dead,
even though the frost hid nothing.

I was there, he knew I cared.
He was my brother now,
but as his body wore away
I knew one day somehow...

I'd be everything he said,
it wouldn't just be a dream.
It would come true
And I would be you.
For I'd met myself that day.