Original Individual - A Poem

Originality, in my view, should be a religion in itself. The religion of the free thinkers, where everyone is a star. Why do we allow ourselves to be labelled and put in boxes?

Are we soup cans?

We have the potential to reach for the stars we look up to, hell, even BECOME those very stars, emulated by millions.

It's all about recognizing yourself and finding your true potential. Be what you wanna be, the only opinion that matters is your own. Don't disgrace yourself in your own eyes in a futile effort to be something you aren't.

We're all fallen angels, molded by the hands of our Father.

Anyways, on to the poem -

I see the beautiful clones

Their rusted hands

The landscape is all but one

Blank and grey, everything's the same

I scream at the sheep

Grab the masses by the throat

Original, individual, I say

Give me something new

Let the spectrum shine through this washed out palette

Break free of your bonds of uniformity

Conform, but only to yourself

Show some color, ignite the spark

Of your overworked soul

Give me a diamond, in a mountain of stones

Original individual, be yourself forever

Narcissus awake from your enraptured slumber

See how unique you really are

Unlock your potential with a skeleton key

Of Moonshine and Goodwill

Original individual, starstruck now or never

Till next time,

Ciao,

Taksh