tonight i look at myself in the mirror,
outward appearences hide me well,
for what i really am, only i can tell.
i smile when i see your face,
what you have to say, i with patience hear,
only to wait until you have gone away,
to burn in anger, hate and fear.
i cannot play with words, like you
i cannot make a friend out of every stranger,
i cannot see the world like you,
to me, it lacks that essential glimmer.
everyday, i hope against hope,
to someday, take my life into my own hands,
and fashion it into what i want,
An image of you - PERFECTION
tis a loosing battle, and i invariably fail,
slowly, glimmering hope turns frail,
replaced by seething jealousy, envious green,
i hate who you are and what i cannot become.
Once again i realize, i am no one.
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"I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time." - Jack London
If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven played music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well."
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About Me
- Viggy
- Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The trouble-makers. The round heads in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status-quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify, or vilify them. But the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.
1 comment:
i cannot play with words, like you
i cannot make a friend out of every stranger,
i cannot see the world like you,
to me, it lacks that essential glimmer.
You sure you weren't talking about me? :P
Ok, I fail to comprehend why half the youth is behind attaining perfection. But anyway, you're a genius. Not cos you're perfect, but cos your poem was super sexy - with lines like tis a loosing battle and outward appearances hide me well! :D
But there was a place where you happily went wrong - everyone can configure or fashion their life the way they want it to be.
Otherwise, good job for a first time blogger. Kudos! :P
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