Pond Full Of Your Flesh Poem by Benson Don

After severe thinking,
your thoughts confuse you
'cus in it there seems nothing new.

Then there's this feeling of,
"I'm not good enough", maybe
"I wasn't meant to be different" or
"I'm just me, ain't special".

The status quo has had
its full pound of flesh.
I mean, its pond full of your flesh.
It has caught you in its sticky web.

There's almost nothing
that hasn't been done.
Every little thing you do
is special enough
to carve you a niche.
It doesn't have to
come from mars,
only ensure it's your best.

Greatness is actually
doing something minute
in a special way and
doing it consistently.