My reply to the someone who saw me, a suitor

I’ve scribbled a difference in my scenes
to and from the virtue
for when they said I couldn’t see the forest for the trees
I ignore the acres of villainy

I was born a tyrant with wings
moving like a plume of gneiss through plate glass
But the amethyst and sapphires in my parent’s tones
give me tithes to cast my stones

and from the virtue
you turn a cleaner page
and avoid the serration your encouragement knows

I was a Bobcat in the hills
and crawling through the lowlands for thrill
the field mice were filled with my aura
But I could have been them too
so I wore off my arrogance, to be nowhere

It’s uncouth to forget your place
so as it is to forget another’s name
but these are just the borders and portraits to the frame
to see the forest, without leaving
I don’t want to forget
and how it was born, within

 

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