To Be Great Is To Be Misunderstood


I never grasped the concept,

Of why the sky was blue.

Or felt that mud was dirty,

And ruined things brand new.

I used to sing a color.

I used to write the wind.

I used to hear a dream-cloud,

Whenever ants had sinned.

But not the sand is churning;

I see things differently.

A bottle is a rainbow-

A path to eternity.

A dwarf is something special.

Clocks are made of stone,

Band-aids can heal a flower-

Or chill it to the bone.

My thoughts are all but normal.

And yet they’re very clear.

Especially when I see that-

Your hair is purple here.

This place of all confusion,

Has made me right at home.

I found that flavored jello-

Is really made of foam.

Please understand my theories-

Are never quite the same.

Simplicity is always-

Hidden in the game.

It’s life or death or neither-

That keeps us on our toes.

I’ve lost you in the whirlwind,

Of Hairy, Curly, and Moe.

My soul will last forever,

But my thoughts will never stay.

So listen to me closely,

And hear what I have to say.

The world around is boring.

Its colors are not true-

To the light of every spirit,

That’s found in me and you.

So close your eyes and see it.

Your heart will tell you so.

Your child within will come back,

And know just where to go.

I am a friend to concept.

I’m a foe to reality.

Live to learn a life like this,

And you’ll understand me.

1 Comment
  1. Avatar of Paula Shene
    Paula Shene says

    What a wonderful poem to start the next year of your life – I do understand.

Leave A Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept

Angie's Diary