He is a cross
between a skeptic and
a optimist.
Somewhere in between is
where he laid his convictions,
doubts and fears.
Always keeping a positive
outlook on life
while constantly on the 
lookout for life’s positives.

He closes his eyes from 
time to time;
hoping to filibuster his reality with
diamond-cut ideals;
possibilities just out of
his reach,
but nevertheless true possibilities.

He’d imagine himself 
riding a single sun-ray, or 
dancing barefoot in the
eclipse of the moon.
Sometimes he’d even float tunes
with Charlie Parker, or sip
Chardonay with Josephine Baker
while discussing “The Arts”
in French tongue.

This sort of abstract thinking and
internal longing for something 
other than his own actuality, made the 
horizon in the distance appear
more vast and colorful;
redder reds, the orangest of the orange,
while blackening the world
in which he lived.

He’d just soon forget
the harsh factuality of today and
bathe in fictitious
waters of tomorrow.
Only then can he cleanse himself 
of the worldly impurities
that have soiled the garment
of his dreams.