Monday, January 25, 2016

The Queen of Quirk


You are wise
it is said
better at analogy

You are tender
to all others
rubbed raw inside

You are smart
sometimes it hurts
with knowing

You are creative
making messes into
unfinished mosaics

You are so shy
paranoid of persona
better to be banished

You are pretty
much a pansy on a pedestal
dropping in the hot sun

You are so thoughtful
there's no more room
for empty things

You are nothing special
You are something else
You are finding yourself
lost in the crowd.





Image(s) by Russell Lee [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, Crowley beauty pageant October 1938. 


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