Oh thee that are from here below,
Oh thee on whom this world is amiss,
Ye that live in monochromatic alleys,
Ye that are of closeted panorama
The beauty of ‘can’ is lost on thee
The wonder of possible, incomprehensible to thee
I am a blush, not white and black
I am many a hue, not one or two
For I can, hence I do
When I will, I sing the tune
I am the force I wish to be
I am the light that guides my inner being
Don’t hold me, or mollycoddle me
Don’t be stern on me, or use fetters of love
The juncture, the stretch, the interval is determined by me
I let you in, cause I want to share
Don’t exert on me, lest I stop to care
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