What we forget when we say “recognition”
Is that it means an echo—nothing more.
To recognize means that, by definition,
It feels familiar—we’ve seen it before.
So when something appears that is so new
There is no pigeonhole in which to set it
And nothing common to compare it to,
The world says “It’s no good!” or “I don’t get it!”
Oh, they would gladly recognize me when
I write like someone else—but if I dare
To carve or paint, compose or push a pen
Like nobody they know, they just don’t care.
Which hurts—but I can’t say that I’m surprised.
When you’re unique, you can’t be recognized.
Copyright 2016 Matthew J Wells