Greatness is my illusion
For only through confusion
Can I bring forth
Anything of worth.
Greatness is taking away
The lower things you can say
And leaving only a narrow
Scope of thoughts you can borrow.
Greatness is repetition
Of a predefined ambition.
Just the telling of old stories
From accepted categories.
Greatness is not
Writing about what you thought
Greatness was at all.
This poem will not fall
Under the greatness that you saw.
It has a category flaw.
The rhyme scheme doesn’t fit at all
And the rhythm seems a bit stalled.
But hey… I had a ball...