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
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