He Saw Himself in Numbers

He saw himself in numbers,

statistics, facts, logic -

He saw himself in numbers, 

And they toyed with his mind. 

  

The IQ emblazoned

across his forehead

didn't tell of the eloquent

nature of his thoughts.

   

The vocabulary count

written on his lips

didn't mention the convivial

nature of his lay.

   

The measures of his shoulders,

muscles, waist circumfrence,

were ignorant of his frame's

skinny beauty.

    

The anxious number written

across his weathered worry-finger

said nothing of the friends

and family he worried for.

    

He saw himself in numbers. 

That is true, and only logical; 

numbers cannot lie

but they are not the only logical explanation.

   

Or perhaps, simple logic

is not the only

explanation.

   

For I saw him in the creases round his eyes

that showed how many times he smiled

and how he stared at the sun

even though it hurt.

   

I saw him in the geraniums by my house

because he forgot to buy me flowers once

so he picked them, all special like,

and my mum was so mad. 

   

I saw him as his hair, 

floppy, messy, black,

a crow's nest that was

surprisingly soft. 

   

I'd hoped that he'd forget the numbers.

I really, truly did. 

But they consumed him into facts

The figures, the abyss.

The End

2 comments about this poem Feed