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The Deviant Writer
I was born a metaphor,
Whose life is a strange poem,
Difficult and confusing.
I see things in a deep twist,
Where simple things is complex
In an easy kind of way.
I think a lot as I speak,
I imagine as I think,
And I dream imagining.
Some thinks I’m weird and crazy,
Someone who does not belong,
Someone who is different.
Many criticize my works,
Seeing only their eye’s side,
Discerning, stereotyping.
Nevertheless I don’t care,
Because I know who I am,
Unlike any other men.
I’m not a rebel you see,
I’m just a normal person
That is basically deviant.
March 13,2009
poem
by
James Callos Jordan
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