Idiosyncrasy
Lackluster, insipid, banal, inane
Lukewarm shadows glide wearily round here
Yet these beings let the question remain--
Why must they value being so austere?
Alas! They do not see the flaws they own
Being incredibly obtuse and gray
Some even sustaining a heart of stone
Heedless of the will that withers away
That is not I! It shall never be me!
Who would choose to live in this artless mode
I choose to soar to a land that is free
Where my might, my strength shall never erode
And with every eye, I see them glare
Speaking to me -- “To whom can you compare?”
2007-10-06
14:59:02
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3 answers
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asked by
Rima
2
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry