But that makes no sense because (you're talking in medical language) I went to a chiropractor and they said I am physically incapable of locking my knee.
Permalink Reply by Dual on September 21, 2010 at 11:13am
She is a book on a tall, wide, bookshelf.
Surrounded by darkness, but with so much potential
For it to grow and tell people about itself
A masterpiece, a triumph, the one quintessential
Expert in what it’s an expert in, in what it be
Not in what people want, but that doesn’t matter
For it is what it is; well, that’s what I see.
My hopes in this book I won’t let you shatter
A book without words, say you their leader,
That’s what you say, but I must contend.
What is a book without just one reader
I’ll be its reader, to make my amends.
You say that it’s worthless, a pile of kindling
Meant to be burnt to fuel the fire of books.
But about the words inside you know not anything,
Know not for you refuse to take just one look.
Though it may not look much, all controversial and strange
I see a light in it greater than any fire.
For my sins, I’m called a madman, deranged!
But I’ll burn before you put it on your pyre.
You have your Rowlings, your Pattersons, your Meyers!
I’ll just have it, for it’s greater than them all.
Keep your damn books, for mine shall rise higher!
My ragged and worthless books are my houses walls.
…Now you’ve burned her. You monsters. You demons.
Well, burn me next, for I’m just as bad.
As I burn, don’t forget, I was a free man.
You’re all weaklings, slaves, plain sad.
I’m burning now. It hurts now. It’s hot.
My creativity burned away, intellectual rot.
This is an outrage, but I shall care not.
You’ve destroyed everything for which I’ve sought.