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I am my own secretary; I dictate, I compose, I copy all myself.

quote by Venerable Bede
Added by Lucian Velea
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Temporary Secretary

Mister Marks Can You Find For Me
Someone Strong And Sweet Fitting On My Knee
She Can Keep Her Job If She Gets It Wrong
Ah, But Mister Marks I Won't Need Her Long
All I Need Is Help For A Little While
We Can Take Dictation And Learn To Smile
And A Temporary Secretary Is What I Need For To Do The Job
I Need A
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary
Mister Marks Could You Send Her Quick
'Cause My Regular Has Been Getting Sick
I Need A
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary
Mister Marks I Can Pay Her Well
If She Comes Along And Can Stay A Spell
I Will Promise Now That I'll Treat Her Right
And Will Rarely Keep Her 'Til Late At Night
I Need A ..
She Can Be A Belly Dancer
I Don't Need A Need Romancer
She Can Be A Diplomat
But I Don't Need A Girl Like That
She Can Be A Neurosurgeon
If She's Doin' Nothing' Urgent
What I Need's A Temporary, Temporary Secretary
I Need A, I Need A
Temporary Secretary. Temporary Secretary
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary
Now Mister Marks When I Send Her Back
Will You Please Make Sure She Stays On The Right Track
Spoken: Well I Know How Hard It Is For Young Girls These Days In The Face Of Everything To Stay On
The Right Track
What I Need's A Temporary, Temporary Secretary
Temporary Secretary I Need A
Temporary Secretary, Temporary Secretary,
Temporary Secretary I Need A
Temporary Secretary. Temporary Secretary,
Temporary Secretary.

song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Assembly Of Ladies

In Septembre, at the falling of the leef,
The fressh sesoun was al-togider doon,
And of the corn was gadered in the sheef;
In a gardyn, about twayn after noon,
Ther were ladyes walking, as was her wone,
Foure in nombre, as to my mynd doth falle,
And I the fifte, the simplest of hem alle.

Of gentilwomen fayre ther were also,
Disporting hem, everiche after her gyse,
In crosse-aleys walking, by two and two,
And some alone, after her fantasyes.
Thus occupyed we were in dyvers wyse;
And yet, in trouthe, we were not al alone;
Ther were knightës and squyers many one.

'Wherof I served?' oon of hem asked me;
I sayde ayein, as it fel in my thought,
'To walke about the mase, in certayntè,
As a woman that [of] nothing rought.'
He asked me ayein—'whom that I sought,
And of my colour why I was so pale?'
'Forsothe,' quod I, 'and therby lyth a tale.'

'That must me wite,' quod he, 'and that anon;
Tel on, let see, and make no tarying.'
'Abyd,' quod I, 'ye been a hasty oon,
I let you wite it is no litel thing.
But, for bicause ye have a greet longing
In your desyr, this proces for to here,
I shal you tel the playn of this matere.—

It happed thus, that, in an after-noon,
My felawship and I, by oon assent,
Whan al our other besinesse was doon,
To passe our tyme, into this mase we went,
And toke our wayes, eche after our entent;
Some went inward, and wend they had gon out,
Some stode amid, and loked al about.

And, sooth to say, some were ful fer behind,
And right anon as ferforth as the best;
Other ther were, so mased in her mind,
Al wayes were good for hem, bothe eest and west.
Thus went they forth, and had but litel rest;

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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I'm Goona Copy

I’m surely gonna copy,
Be it poem, DVD or floppy,
And win Nobel Prize and trophy.

I will copy poets all
Whether they are big or small
Ya! No one can make me stop
Till I scale a fame’s highest top.

At the beginning of age
When God made men in his own image
He started this “Plagiarist” trend
Which I am not gonna end.

And what is creativity?
If not an ability to hide
a source of theft
with impunity.

When there is nothing
original under the sun,
Why should I copy not
and deprive myself of fun.

So I’ll copy them word by word
be they Pablo, Shakespeare or Wordsworth.
I’ll copy them from morn to evening
And would excel HITESH and Kipling.
Can you prove, they were not plagiarist,
And had not copy from some poet’s list.

You can inform FBI, KGB or CIA,
But I won’t stop my wanton ways.
And I will copy without shame,
Till I earn big name and fame.

I will copy till people start copying me,
And then and then only I will
give up this vice with glee.: -)

(This poem is a sequel to poem, “hay all you people that like to copy” written by Melissa Schreuder)

Dr Hitesh C Sheth
19/05/2009

poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Copycat

They had an accident
And they never noticed anyway
A lack of originality
Couldnt focus on the day
So much for the radio
Everybody sounds the same
Everybody wears the same clothes now
And everybody plays the game
Copycat, copycat, copycat
Copy copy copy copy yourself
Copycat, copycat, copycat
Copy copy copy everyone else
Ive got a great idea
I will change things on my own
I see my vision very clear,
Wouldnt wanna be another clone
So much for the radio, the radio is sad
Sad, sad, sad
They had an accident
But they never noticed anyway
A lack of originality
Couldnt focus on the day
So much for the radio
Everybody sounds the same
Everybody wears the same clothes now,
And everybody plays the game
Copy everyone else x4

song performed by Cranberries
Added by Lucian Velea
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We Can Create A Modern International Community

And I wonder when Congress will allow public nationwide schools...
in the United States to set aside time for children again to pray?
To pray for, or quietly reflect on behalf of, their once great Nation!

To pray for their nation during this proclaimed danger time...
of struggle against the forces of evil dark international terrorism!
But in the White House lurks a dark soul of 100% fetus murder!

Barack against murder international terrorism with Pro-Abortion Record!
Like Pharaoh in the time of the birth of Moses, like King Harold at the birth of Jesus, killing innocent children based on state law is ok in America today!

Why? How can this be? On 9th of March 2008 Barack proclaimed “We were once were, we are no longer a Christian nation, at least not just....”
No Ten Commandments, No God’s law displayed in government buildings!

15th April 2009 Barack proclaimed “We can create a modern international community that is respectful that is secure that is prosperous....
(in an aside to himself) and like Baal Worshippers we will support propagate

State Policies funding killing innocent children against the will of the majority of Americans and I Barack will use tax payer dollars to kill innocent unborn! We will fill White House high office with Pro Abortion all! Yes We Can!

Darth Vader will create a universal New World Order!

And in the on going baby killing sweepstakes infant killer Obama selects: -

Pro-Abortion Sen. Joe Biden as Obama’s vice-presidential running mate. Pro-Abortion Rep. Rahm Emanuel as Obama’s White House Chief of Staff.
Pro-Abortion former Sen. Tom Daschle as Obama’s Health and Human Services Secretary.

Former NARAL legal director Dawn Johnsen to serve as a member of Obama’s Department of Justice Review Team. Next appointed Assistant Attorney General for the Office of the Legal Counsel.

Betta check Obama’s rap sheet Pro-Abortion Record, for the rest of his all star elite baby killing machine selections.

'President Barack Obama's Pro-Abortion Record: A Pro-Life Compilation

Washington, DC (LifeNews.com) - The following is a compilation of bill signings, speeches, appointments and other actions that President Barack Obama has engaged in that have promoted abortion before and during his presidency. While Obama has promised to reduce abortions and some of his supporters believe that will happen, this long list proves his only agenda is promoting more abortions.

During the presidential election, Obama selected pro-abortion Sen. Joe Biden as his vice-presidential running mate.

Post-Election / Pre-Inauguration
November 5,2008 - Obama selects pro-abortion Rep. Rahm Emanuel as his White House Chief of Staff. Emanuel has a 0% pro-life voting record according to National Right to Life.

November 19,2008 - Obama picks pro-abortion former Sen. Tom Daschle as his Health and Human Services Secretary. Daschle has a long pro-abortion voting record according to National Right to Life.

November 20,2008 - Obama chooses former NARAL legal director Dawn Johnsen to serve as a member of his Department of Justice Review Team. Later, he finalizes her appointment as the Assistant Attorney General for the Office of the Legal Counsel in the Obama administration.

November 24,2008 - Obama appoints Ellen Moran, the former director of the pro-abortion group Emily's List as his White House communications director. Emily's List only supports candidates who favored taxpayer funded abortions and opposed a partial-birth abortion ban.

November 24,2008 - Obama puts former Emily's List board member Melody Barnes in place as his director of the Domestic Policy Council.

November 30,2008 - Obama named pro-abortion Sen. Hillary Clinton as the Secretary of State. Clinton has an unblemished pro-abortion voting record and has supported making unlimited abortions an international right.

December 10,2008 - Obama selects pro-abortion former Clinton administration official Jeanne Lambrew to become the deputy director of the White House Office of Health Reform. Planned Parenthood is 'excited' about the selection.

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Rosciad

Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.

Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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Admiral Mike

(michael nesmith)
Peaceful music (bmi)
Lead vocal: micky dolenz
Youre selling ads you slimy toad
Dont smile at me and shake my hand
Youre killing me
Youre killing us
Because youre only
only selling ads
Youre selling ads you stupid twit
The naked lunch is on your knife
The homicides are suicides
Because youre only
only selling ads
Your copy kills
Your copy smells
Realities are crushed beneath the ads your copy sells
Go back to hell you giddy fools
There is no truth you cannot maim
He killed himself
You killed him first
Because youre only
only selling ads
Your copy kills
Your copy smells
Realities are crushed beneath the ads your copy sells
Youre selling ads you slimy toad
Dont smile at me and shake my hand
Youre killing me
Youre killing us
Because youre only
only selling ads
Because youre only only selling ads
Because youre only only selling ads
Because youre only only selling ads

song performed by Monkees
Added by Lucian Velea
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Could You

There's something about you boy,
That makes me want to skip through the town,
In the rain with you.
There's something about you.
And it makes my heart skip every other beat like a broken record.

You asked me the other day, if you should sing a certain song to a girl.
I said it'd be romantic, go for it.
But as my fingers hit those keys, I could only anxiously think,
If he'll ever sing it to me.
So when you figure who you could like, who you should love.
Could you please consider me?

Hey, boy. You make me spechless...

It's not another copy of, will you just glance at me.
Not another copy of, won't you just say a word to me.
The question is for you and for me.
'Baby could you love me, like I want to love you? '
Smiley boy, we could have a future together with no end.
There would be no lies, fakes, or pretends
Boy, all our friends would be jelous of what we have together.

I'd go to every single soccer game.
Cheer the loudest from the stands.
You'd go to every one of my track meets,
Loving me so much, it's hard to understand.

Hey, boy. You make me spechless...

It's not another copy of, will you just glance at me.
Not another copy of, won't you just say a word to me.
The question is for you and for me.
'Baby could you love me, like I want to love you? '

I never thought, not ever considered
That I could feel the way I do for you now.
But I'm glad it planned out the way.
That's the way I want it to stay.

Hey, boy. You make me spechless...

It's not another copy of, will you just glance at me.
Not another copy of, won't you just say a word to me.
The question is for you and for me.
'Baby could you love me, like I want to love you? '

You're the perfect boy for me, the sweet prince charming
Of my daydreams, you're the one rescuing me.
You play guitar and sing, what a wonderful thing.

[...] Read more

poem by Khloe Chace
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Na Tian Piet's Sha'er Of The Late Sultan Abu Bakar Of Johor

In the name of God, let his word begin:
Praise be to God, let praises clear ring;
May our Lord, Jesus Christ's[8] blessings
Guide my pen through these poetizings!

This sha'er is an entirely new composition
Composed by myself, no fear of imitation.
It's Allah's name, I will keep calling out
While creating this poem to avoid confusion.

This story I'm relating at the present moment
I copy not, nor is it by other hands wrought;
Nothing whatsoever is here laid out
That hereunder is not clearly put forth.

Not that I am able to create with much ease,
To all that's to come I'm yet not accustomed;
Why, this sha'er at this time is being composed
Only to console my heart which is heavily laden.

I'm a peranakan[9], of Chinese origin,
Hardly perfect in character and mind;
I find much that I can not comprehend,
I'm not a man given to much wisdom.

Na Tian Piet[10] is what I go by name
I have in the past composed stories and poems;
Even when explained to - most stupid I remain
The more I keep talking the less I understand.

I was born in times gone by
In the country known as Bencoolen[11];
Indeed, I am more than stupid:
Ashamed am I composing this lay.

Twenty-four years have gone by
Since I moved to the island of Singapore;
My wife and children accompanied me
To Singapore, a most lovely country.

I stayed in Riau[12] for some time
Together with my wife and children;
Two full years in Riau territory,
Back to Singapore my legs carried me.

At the time when Acheh[13] was waging war
I went there with goods to trade,
I managed to sell them at exhorbitant prices:
Great indeed were the profits I made.

[...] Read more

poem by T. Wignesan
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Orestes

I’d kill you if there wasn’t
An umbilical cord wedged between us.
Gods dictate what will happen
If I don’t murder you.
The Gods dictate what will happen
If I do.

Everything happens in circles,
A cycle that’ll never stop.
Humans can’t stop the cycle,
But they keep it spinning instead.
It makes no sense,
But, nothing ever does.

I’d kill you if there wasn’t
An umbilical cord wedged between us.
Gods dictate what will happen
If I don’t murder you.
The Gods dictate what will happen
If I do.

© Charlie F. Kane

21/3/06

poem by Charlie F. Kane
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The Dunciad: Book II.

High on a gorgeous seat, that far out-shone
Henley's gilt tub, or Flecknoe's Irish throne,
Or that where on her Curlls the public pours,
All-bounteous, fragrant grains and golden showers,
Great Cibber sate: the proud Parnassian sneer,
The conscious simper, and the jealous leer,
Mix on his look: all eyes direct their rays
On him, and crowds turn coxcombs as they gaze.
His peers shine round him with reflected grace,
New edge their dulness, and new bronze their face.
So from the sun's broad beam, in shallow urns
Heaven's twinkling sparks draw light, and point their horns.

Not with more glee, by hands Pontific crown'd,
With scarlet hats wide-waving circled round,
Rome in her Capitol saw Querno sit,
Throned on seven hills, the Antichrist of wit.

And now the queen, to glad her sons, proclaims
By herald hawkers, high heroic games.
They summon all her race: an endless band
Pours forth, and leaves unpeopled half the land.
A motley mixture! in long wigs, in bags,
In silks, in crapes, in garters, and in rags,
From drawing-rooms, from colleges, from garrets,
On horse, on foot, in hacks, and gilded chariots:
All who true dunces in her cause appear'd,
And all who knew those dunces to reward.

Amid that area wide they took their stand,
Where the tall maypole once o'er-looked the Strand,
But now (so Anne and piety ordain)
A church collects the saints of Drury Lane.

With authors, stationers obey'd the call,
(The field of glory is a field for all).
Glory and gain the industrious tribe provoke;
And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke.
A poet's form she placed before their eyes,
And bade the nimblest racer seize the prize;
No meagre, muse-rid mope, adust and thin,
In a dun night-gown of his own loose skin;
But such a bulk as no twelve bards could raise,
Twelve starveling bards of these degenerate days.
All as a partridge plump, full-fed, and fair,
She form'd this image of well-bodied air;
With pert flat eyes she window'd well its head;
A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead;
And empty words she gave, and sounding strain,
But senseless, lifeless! idol void and vain!

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Pope
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Nha Trang, Viet Nam Catholic Bishop’s Family

I do not love you with any of my heart
I see you & your family are part of the devil’s cart

Bishop Pierre I trusted & believed he taught you all
Honestly, Truth, God & not lying, stealing and abusing a human that causes him/her to fall

In time I learned when Bishop Pierre died the devil took 100% control
You and your family stole my money, my life, my love, my heart and my soul

Medically disabled does not matter to Nguyen Thi Dieu Tran, Pham Chi Tai, your family is true
Both of you and Nguyen Elizabeth & others in your family know it is wrong to do

Losing my life would have been easier with Ho Chi Minh
Now I identify the Catholic Bishop Pierre’s family in the USA and Viet Nam as VC who find it easy to sin

Live & die in peace is hard to find
Due to medical and financial pain caused by the Bishop’s family members who have the Devil’s mind

The stress from the expenses to take care of the house, the car and my life causes my heart to cry
Due Tai Chi Pham the Trustee of my Irrevocable Trust Fund illegally caused it be dry

With the Catholic Vietnamese family I learned what you can feel and see
Even with Bishop Pierre Nguyen Van Nho in the family can still act like the VC

I ask all of you who read this poem to give your response about this zone
It would help me understand if I am all alone

You can see a public copy of the signed and stamped TEMPORARY ORDER OF PROHIBITION against Tai Chi Pham by the State of Illinois Secretary of State Securities Department in July 2009 at: http: //www.cyberdriveillinois.com/departments/securiti es/administrative_actions/2009/july/taipham_top.p df

And you can see a public copy of the signed and stamped FINAL ORDER OF PROHIBITION against Mr. Tai Chi Pham at the State of Illinois Secretary of State Securities Department Internet Site August 2009 at:
http: //www.cyberdriveillinois.com/departments/securiti es/administrative_actions/2009/august/taipham_op. pdf

poem by Michael Appleman
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360 Degrees (What Goes Around)

[GPM] Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] The reel to reel to reel to reel yo
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] Copy copy copy copy copy
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] We gonna hit it down like this

song performed by Grand Puba from Reel to Reel
Added by Lucian Velea
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360 Degrees (What Goes Around)

[GPM] Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] The reel to reel to reel to reel yo
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] Copy copy copy copy copy
"There's just one thing I wanna say.."
[GPM] We gonna hit it down like this

song performed by Grand Puba from Reel to Reel
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Fable For Critics

Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made,
For the god being one day too warm in his wooing,
She took to the tree to escape his pursuing;
Be the cause what it might, from his offers she shrunk,
And, Ginevra-like, shut herself up in a trunk;
And, though 'twas a step into which he had driven her,
He somehow or other had never forgiven her;
Her memory he nursed as a kind of a tonic,
Something bitter to chew when he'd play the Byronic,
And I can't count the obstinate nymphs that he brought over
By a strange kind of smile he put on when he thought of her.
'My case is like Dido's,' he sometimes remarked;
'When I last saw my love, she was fairly embarked
In a laurel, as _she_ thought-but (ah, how Fate mocks!)
She has found it by this time a very bad box;
Let hunters from me take this saw when they need it,-
You're not always sure of your game when you've treed it.
Just conceive such a change taking place in one's mistress!
What romance would be left?-who can flatter or kiss trees?
And, for mercy's sake, how could one keep up a dialogue
With a dull wooden thing that will live and will die a log,-
Not to say that the thought would forever intrude
That you've less chance to win her the more she is wood?
Ah! it went to my heart, and the memory still grieves,
To see those loved graces all taking their leaves;
Those charms beyond speech, so enchanting but now,
As they left me forever, each making its bough!
If her tongue _had_ a tang sometimes more than was right,
Her new bark is worse than ten times her old bite.'

Now, Daphne-before she was happily treeified-
Over all other blossoms the lily had deified,
And when she expected the god on a visit
('Twas before he had made his intentions explicit),
Some buds she arranged with a vast deal of care,
To look as if artlessly twined in her hair,
Where they seemed, as he said, when he paid his addresses,
Like the day breaking through, the long night of her tresses;
So whenever he wished to be quite irresistible,
Like a man with eight trumps in his hand at a whist-table
(I feared me at first that the rhyme was untwistable,
Though I might have lugged in an allusion to Cristabel),-
He would take up a lily, and gloomily look in it,
As I shall at the--, when they cut up my book in it.

Well, here, after all the bad rhyme I've been spinning,
I've got back at last to my story's beginning:
Sitting there, as I say, in the shade of his mistress,
As dull as a volume of old Chester mysteries,

[...] Read more

poem by James Russell Lowell
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What you compose with is neither here nor there, you compose with words, or you compose with stone plants and trees, or you compose with events; the Sheriff's officer, or whatever.

quote by Ian Hamilton Finlay
Added by Lucian Velea
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Command As You Demand It

Strike up the band,
And...
Command as you demand it.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.

And strike up the band.
With a command from you demanded.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.

Grandstand and be free to be candid.
Strike up the band,
And...
Forget about offending those who may witness.
Strike up the band,
And...
Do it with a strutting flaunted you do best.
With a caring less who objects your steps.

Strike up the band,
And...
Command as you demand it.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.

And strike up the band.
With a command from you demanded.
Compose a little tune.
With a filling of a room to boom.

Forget about offending those who may witness.
Strike up the band.
And...
With a caring less who objects your steps.
Strike up the band.
And...
Forget about offending those who may witness.
Strike up the band.
And...
With a caring less who objects your steps.
Strike up the band.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dialogue With A Poet

Are you a poet?
Yes, I am a poet
How do you know that
I have composed a poem
You are a poet
when you compose
But right now?
I shall compose oneday again

You are a poet
the moment you compose
after that?
are you sure that
second one will also
be a poem
If second one is like first one
that is not a poem.

You must know a poem
can be a poem only once
What is a good poem
you never know.

To compose a good poem
you need a situation
or a context
that can not be repeated.

So you are not a poet
You will never be a poet.

poem by Devil Poet
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The Echo Of The Words

when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok
when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok
when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok
when you say something
i simply copy and paste
and you think i am not ok

but i am ok, i am ok, i am ok.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Am Me

(diana ross/freddie gorman/janie bradford)
Go deep in circles
To find it in me
Rain falls around to my beginnings
So many riddles of my identity
I know all the answers of who Im supposed to be
I am me
Good or bad
I am myself
Im no carbon copy of no one else
Right or wrong
I will stand up like a tree
Happy or sad
Good or bad
I am me
I am me
Following a move
Set up by some others
I would lose myself
And become another
Should I fail
And come to my ruin
Or if I succeed
It would be, be my doing
Im me
Good or bad
I am myself
Im no carbon copy of no one else
Right or wrong
I will stand up like a tree
Happy or sad
Good or bad
I am me
I am me
Different images
So many people see
Not knowing themselves
They are unique
To copy may be flattery
I understand
I can be a better me
Than anyone else
I am me
Good or bad
I am myself
Im no carbon copy of no one else
Right or wrong
I will stand up like a tree
Happy or sad
Good or bad

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song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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