Za Zdorovie! Poem by robert dickerson

I am raising a glass
to those troubled souls
whose realities are dubbed delusions
by the dutiful many;
who prefer truth to gain
Idea to money-in-the-bank,
Good to bread
form to kin;
Who believe it exists, the Beautiful,
and worth chasing. Who
cannot deny what is plain to see.
Whose lives will be unhappy
but who never, never waver
thinking there's an essence in things;
Who cannot resist
thinking a lifetime spent
chasing its ghost
glory sufficient in itself
even if they never quite catch it;
that justice will be finally done if you wait for it.
Who refuse the intrusion of delusion
and with a martyrs' zeal
walk without dismay
into the unreal,
knowing it takes the timid a while to see.
I am raising a glass to you
Look me in the eye-here...
Za Zdorovie!