Inspiration

He wept in silent solitude,
The solitary woman, silent.
Laughing at the quiet house,
All its long past violent.

Broken lenses were his glasses,
Colored fingers were her fashion,
Plain white shirts, a purple stripe,
Flowers were her greatest passion.

Glory was his all time dream,
Fame and Fortune, just the perks,
Loving someone, most important,
Obsession, where her heart lurks.

He was a man of every gender,
She, a woman of every name.
Sometimes he'd be quiet, shy,
Sometimes she'd be just the same.

I met this man inside my mind,
Just before she left the station.
As he faded, I asked his name,
Her name was Inspiration.