To Best Be Served (Poem + Explanation)

A smile, on your face,

Is a vision that pleases my mind….

For I'm able, to affect humankind,

For I am a father of grace!

A smile, on your face,

Is a fantasy that makes me burst with happiness…

Because if I'm able, to prove you wrong,

Then it was practical to have been a monk!

It's more than renown,

It's more than relevance,

It's for a possibility to have won!

Piece by piece,

View after view,

I can, yes, make you smile, too!

(World domination,

Is something he craves for a reason...

Since the opportunity,

Of sincerity,

Can break your confident immunity!

The challenge awaits,

Even though one might still fail…

To prove you wrong,

That's how he'll prevail:

By raising a smile on your face!)

Why the desire,

To go far higher,

And leave me alone, in the dirt?

I'll try to surpass you,

For I can, too,

Can without any love, any flirt!

(A smile, on your face,

Is something that he wants you to make…

A sweet revenge,

Is best be served,

Through a recognition that's well deserved!

So the challenge awaits,

Even though one might still fail…

To prove you wrong,

That's how he'll prevail:

By raising a smile on your face!)

Just the chance,

To jump over the fence,

And fly with the ability to forget...

To prove you wrong,

I'll use my song,

Until your words you might regret!

The challenge awaits,

Even though I might still fail…

But to prove you wrong,

That's how I'll prevail:

By raising a smile on your face!

**********************************

I just want her to be proud of me, that I'm doing well with her permanent vacancy. I'm not crazy, I'm not a bizarre individual... am I? The thought of her acknowledging that she was wrong about my worth is essentially the fuel for my quest for World Relevance.

It is to show her, and those who have doubted me, that it is possible for them to be corrected. The only way is up, because I made it, and the opposite direction is nothing but oblivion. Perfection might not be realistically possible, but why not try, at least, to excel, despite one's shortcomings? The payment I require from them is simple: their ignorance, in exchange for their realization. That's the basic demand of any philosopher who doesn't submit completely to the comfort of wasted anonymity.