Some Poem
Nobody is nothing;
So long as they exist in the mind of another one.
It matters not what you think of me;
For what you think of me is more than what I think of myself.
My purpose is only to exist;
To draft art forms in wake of another's denial.
I am here to make beauty;
Not to receive it.
Men's bodies are final, they are frail.
They are glass vessels holding sand.
I am in this world, not of it.
Maybe I will travel through a thousand lives
Before finding The Answer.
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