I have a rebel with a cause.
His skinny fingers twist his ciggy as he stands tall and thin against the wall, unshifting.
His voice soft like Sinatra,
His words sharp like Buddy Holly.
He is as ageless as the music he makes,
as timeless as the songs he wishes he'd created.
He has not enough comprehension of stereotypes to belong to one.
He wears and does whatever he wishes when he says he wishes.
He's James Dean without the automobile, Elvis without the drugs.
He is very much alive.
He's Dylan devoid of a guitar, Johnny Cash before June.
When I find him I'll let you know because I shall be his cause.
His skinny fingers twist his ciggy as he stands tall and thin against the wall, unshifting.
His voice soft like Sinatra,
His words sharp like Buddy Holly.
He is as ageless as the music he makes,
as timeless as the songs he wishes he'd created.
He has not enough comprehension of stereotypes to belong to one.
He wears and does whatever he wishes when he says he wishes.
He's James Dean without the automobile, Elvis without the drugs.
He is very much alive.
He's Dylan devoid of a guitar, Johnny Cash before June.
When I find him I'll let you know because I shall be his cause.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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