There has been
in the crossing of the circles
into the infinity
a select single few
their perfection rings supreme
outcast by the dull ordinary
for their glimer
is such a radiance
one dare not dull it
with their own meager yellow shine
these select can walk open handed
amidst enemies
and become the leader
of which once
hated them so.
to their own demise
could this be the way
of growth
that show in us something we desire to be
by others we dare not hinder
for within we all know
'they're gonna go places'
the green pales even my light
even so
am i so perfect?
this is the deliema i face.
the shells have cracked
spilling the yoke...