I am a Little Strange, I Imagine . . . But Who Cares?
I am a little strange, but who can own it?
I lover the storms, but who cares?
I take with me the best of all my interests.
I take to heart, what I know I'll miss.
I am not afraid of being overpowered,
I am not afraid of pain.
For, too long have I been seeking,
an outlet for this- my shame.
Anything that I can fathom,
all that I must weather,
is truly an avid patron,
of all that is dear.
Perhaps I don't make much sense,
but I don't know what I can tell you.
I may seem highfalutin-
but, surely, does it really count?
I am one of the most fervent creatures,
that ever walked the face of the planet.
I am of God, I know it true,
and He wants me to be,
just like this.
So please, don't denote me as strange, or weird,
for you cannot see beyond the darkness.
All my vent is on this paper,
every bit of shame goes through my hand.
When I ask you, some sweet day,
what you once had fathomed,
you'll say, you were a little odd-
but never were you undesired.
my nature will be desired.