He smiles at the others,
And he wonders if he’s like them,
He never was born with himself,
And he tries to find it.
He sees one he likes,
And he tries to be like him.
He can pull it off well,
But they do not know,
He is not like him.
Then when his idol fails him,
He possesses another.
But when he must leave him,
Only the knife is his brother.
He unites with the blade,
For the sake of the journey,
To bring romance,
To himself with no self,
So that by some notice,
He may be known as one.
As a man, but not a mere thought.
But he never did consider,
That by his beating heart and his working brain,
He too was a man,
And he too was a dream in his own,
An idol to another – a character,
And that his very journey,
Did deem him a man,
And that all men are created equal.
The man of many men,
He is the Multiman.
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