I have been a great fool –
Both a slave and an objector to rules.
I have been known to stare or drool.
I have been known to think I'm cool.
I might not be a lover or a fighter.
I might be a perpetual friend-slighter,
Which I'm writing off, since I'm
probably a writer.
All I know for certain–I'm a certain
kind of blighter.
I might find my home once I walk
through the gate.
I might be signing myself up for a full
plate.
I might find myself content in the
situation I create.
I might be a holder for an ego, with a
mouth to blow, inflate,
But all I want to be is late.
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