A Few Of Us Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Each one of us thinks greatness has
without much open razzmatazz
been resident within our minds.
So when we sit on our behinds
sheer brilliance leaves like morning dew
and paints the world a gentle blue.
So, question not, accept that we
dwell always in the gallery.
Like paintings in the homes of Czars
or vintage wines in noble bars
our genius, given right at birth
makes us the talents of this earth.

Needless to say I do not speak
of the majority who seek
their admiration from their peers
while wallowing in morbid fears.

And give to me a generous budget
trust me. It's poetry. I'll judge it.