Empty Me,
of those wishing
all to be,
of normalcy
I make my boast,
in those who
are Outcasts, to majority's reality
Diluted,
in my perceptions
I'll only give,
what is of the usual babble
I have no insight,
to anything,
which is not familiar to others
I need,
structures,
flow, forms,
meters,
precise rhythms,
and rhymes
It's what I know,
as I lack, any other knowledge
I'm,
closed-minded
shut up
in utter
darkness,
I'm secluded
from,
God's Infinite Gifts
I will never,
see,
anyone's
Unique,
Artistic Creativity,
The Soul's True Poetry
Yet,
Knowing
God, The Creator,
Started All Things,
From,
No Form
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