Xviii - Poem by Jacques Maurice
They say it’s selfish to be yourself,
and yet they don’t respect you if you be someone else -
as if a newborn baby doesn’t know how to breath!
I’ll always love you darling, whoever you’ll be.
You came out like a perfect puzzle;
only He could have engineered the scramble.
Now His creation is left for us to handle.
Thanks to His indulgence, it isn’t “I, ” but “we.”
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