Give me one mumbling, meandering, daydreaming, stick-wielding kid for ten droop-necked texters in a pack.
Give me one knee-hugging, sunset beach-sitting thinker for a hundred iPod strand-joggers.
I’ll take one game-loving loser for a thousand equipment-throwing "athletes" --
One video-gaming, movie-quote-repeating teenaged “nerd” for a million pouting, mirror-photographed Facebook movie stars.
I’ll bask in the connection to dead people who live like waterfall mist on pages and in timeless sound and I’ll leave the tight-packed rooms full of living excitement for those who think crowds equal company.
I’ll trade the wide world for the endless expanses of my Tardis imagination.
You can have the Grammys; I’ll be jamming with my little boys.
You can have the cheering crowds; I’ll take kind words from good friends.
Let the rest lust over the chilly marble beauty sculpted by the beauty magazine engineers.
I’ll have my original perfect love with the smiling eyes.
They can have loneliness in numbers; I’ll hang with the best of humankind --
The ones from the First Explosion up to my deathbedside.
No comments:
Post a Comment