Intellect 2

Have me appeared as a sack of meat
Or a mold of clay mix with blood
Or just a frame with bone and flesh
But that is not true me with a head.

In that head I contain something
And occasionally I bring that forth
You may know the man by name
But you know not my intrinsic worth.

Essence of life may be many a thing
To one but to me it is sheer intellect
My existence rounds and counts it most
That part of me you must not neglect.

Saturday, March 16, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: existence
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