The mark is spreading from
Limb to limb and from
Torso to torso, giving away
The destination of
The people in the know.

My green eyes must be jaded,
For they see nothing that
They have not seen before.

There is a difference between
Everyday and mediocre; somehow
It is the latter that is
Making me write this time.

I wonder how many days
They have laboured for
Something that merely shows
Their lack of imagination?

I wonder how much
Ink and paper I spend
On cynicism?

This could be healthy
Scepticism, born of my
Fellow humans’ lack of
Self appreciation, or it could be
Bitterness that my individuality
Is so seldom appreciated.

Like so many things, this is
Not a dichotomy, but
A spectrum. I hope that
I am nearer to one end
Than the other.

03/17/2011

Posted on 08/07/2011
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince