I wrote this poem, called 'The Outsider' in January 1999, whilst living aboard my boat in West Cork, Ireland. When you live on a boat at sea, people, in general, make almighty assumptions about you - who you were, who you are, where you came from, you must be weird, you're homeless, you're a dropout, you're totally nuts, and far worse. Others never really know the truth about us, which in my case was that I felt this way before I left land to float away. Living on the sea gave me freedom and taught me to survive, no matter what life threw at me... and it threw with a vengeance. The Outsider There are worlds of people everywhere, A life that is not mine. I’m swimming through the mud and dirt Of life’s floor Feet heavy Head high Alone. Trees are my conversation, Whispering mass sweet nothings in my ear And shouting out so loud that They are alive. The sky holds me in Keeps me grounded, The pale blue ceiling of my life. The air cleans and freshe...
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