It pains me sometimes when I think,
Pains me that none of you understood.
That you praised the choice of word,
When you comprehended none.
It was acceptable that it didn't make sense,
And so it was considered my poetic genius,
The more incomprehensible it became,
The more you lauded my efforts.
Frankly, I didn't have a clue of what they meant.
I was comforted with the fact that it was loved,
And encouraged me to equip my word arsenal.
This didn't pain me then and so you may ask why,
Well there is a simple explanation to my feelings.
My words are simple now and all is heart felt,
But again you understand none of it,
Only this time I'm called mediocre for my simplicity,
And what is true maybe considered stupid,
But that is me, all of it.
I will not tread my old ways for your applause,
In a way this pain is comforting,
It is comforting to know I'm not like any of you.