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.
