I am myself, as The Lord
Intended me to be.
Special felt, 'neathwhat fame
Brands a non-entity!
With our profit in mind
Set He us tones apart.
Shades of difference that
More than colours impart!
To be laughed at are mimes!
Locked away, who more than
Make a harmless pretence
Of a horrible man.
I cant be you, as that would
My calling jeopardize.
Conformity corrupts
Rebel instinct, more wise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem