“Mr Fix-it”

One day I was dreaming.
I was walking on this perfect road.
I marvelled at the world for it was beautiful.
I was in awe of the wonders that I saw.
Was this paradise to me?
Oh yes it was nothing was out of place, nothing askew.

In the distance, I hear a singing and a noise, a strange tune and I strain to hear.
Getting closer I am met by this strange sight.
There stood a little man with a tool box bigger than himself.
Singing the tune I heard. I pause to listen for the melody is sweet and true.
The words of the song flowing as he worked.

I walk into a room and the first thing I look for it something to fix.
I walk out a room and try to fix the room.
I will fix-it when it is broken.
I will fix-it when it isn’t broken.
I am Mr Fix-it.
I am able to fix-it-all.
Give me my due even if I don’t fix-it I will.
For I am the fix-it man.

How can this be, what is there to fix in this world?
I ask this fellow this question, he stops looks at me.
Smiles and says because someone thinks it is broken.
Who I say thinks this, why do they think this.
He shrugs and says you asking me, I just fix-it.
I don’t ask, I don’t question I just do.
For the others want it fixed.
Who are these others you talk of, who is it that wants it fixed?
Turning he says you are the one who wants it fixed.
Me I say, no I don’t want it fixed, and I just want it perfect.
To which he replied yes that is why I am the fix-it man.

Looking closer I gaze at the man’s face, surely it is a mirror.
For looking back it is my face, my smile, me, me, and me.
Why do I so wish to fix-it?
Why do I feel the urge to do such?
Did I break it?
Was it broken before?

I stand a while in contemplation of what is said.
Who are these others he spoke of?
Why am asking him to fix-it?
What drives me to want it fixed?

The little man continues to sing and fix-it,
I walk into a room and the first thing I look for it something to fix.
I walk out a room and try to fix the room.
I will fix-it when it is broken.
I will fix-it when it isn’t broken.
I am Mr Fix-it.
I am able to fix-it-all.
Give me my due even if I don’t fix-it I will.
For I am the fix-it man.

I awake the dream is so real is my contemplation is over.
Am I no longer Mr Fix-it?
Trying to fix something that was never broke or is it ever meant to be fixed.
No, I am not Mr Fix-it no more, I am just me.