This Is Me

I would like to tell you a little bit about me
I was born in California in nineteen-sixty-three
In my earliest memory, Mother is beautiful and tall
I loved her without reservation, at two she was my all.
By three I understood that I was distinct, separate from others
I came to know that I had no less than three half-brothers.
At four I began to question the nature of reality
And my place within it, what was “I”, this “Me”?
At five I gladly joined the ranks of those who went to school
For I knew the place was full of knowledge and knowledge is a tool.
From six to sixteen, I lived with my family in a house on a hill
Nobody back then noticed that I was mentally ill.
At sixteen my madness bloomed, and I quit school out of spite
But to spite who I cannot say, try to though I might.
When I turned seventeen, I tried to join the Navy proud
But I washed out and judged unfit, membership was not allowed.
After that I hit the road, homeless but carefree.
For the first time in my life, I had no one but me.
I crisscrossed the nation from shore to distant shore
I cannot remember now what I was looking for.
Hitch-hiking was my mode of choice, upraised thumb was my cue
I told stories for tips, and sometimes they were true.
I found my family by chance, they had moved to Idaho
Why they chose that dusty place I will never know.
But my family I had by then outgrown, Caldwell too small for me
Peripatetic carnivals were my employment choice, truly they were key.
I often drove trucks, and though unlicensed I was a good driver
I picked up a lot of skills, I was a survivor.
I was at the end of my rope, in a shelter where I stayed
I was going to suicide; the decision had been made.
A homeless counselor saw my plight, he saved my life indeed.
His intentions were good and pure, not a thought toward greed.
He reserved a bed for me while he worked my case,
For eight long months, the shelter became my home base.
I am not a weak man; I consider myself tough.
But I was tired, all used up, life had gotten rough.
For eight long months, I languished awaiting the counselor's word
I thought my case was hopeless, and to ask for help was absurd.
Within the law, there is provision for people just like me
I qualified for and began receiving Disability.
Bi-Polar Disorder, that’s what it is I’ve got
An emotional disorder, it screws me up a lot.
I was no longer homeless, and my worries dissolved on that day
I was saved by a saint; I have a home to stay.
I am here to tell you that I have received
God's benevolent blessing, though I wouldn’t have believed.