You’d have me believe that life is a race
Governed by the likes of your kind
If only you looked closer at the tartan track, you’d notice,
That I’m not only a participant in this “race” —
—I’m the gun-wielding starter —
— The roaring crowd — the checkered flag waver.
It surprises no one, but you — pay attention —
— I am the whole stadium.
You’re a bystander — a potential witness — to how I’m highly favoured,
Drop the Svengali act and step aside —
I’m doing you a favour because you’re not even good at that.
Self-knowledge dictates I start and run my own races
Notice the scoreboard as I fill every vacant placement.
Such is the greatness of tempering incessant anguish.
No one is better at being me more than I’ll ever be;
As such, I work to outdo myself at every single opportunity.
The gems I excavate on my worst days have more weight.
In pursuit of depth, they touch base with the Earth’s core
With a fluency that dwarfs what you’d parse to me as amazing.
Should be a borderline crime, enduring such levels of basic,
Especially at the cost of my patience.
Listen, I have love for humanity,
I have love for who we are
Who we could be — our flaws and all — but —
I have no love for you. I’ve searched, but I have none to spare.
Specifically for you and those like you.
Because no well-meaning human carries themselves
The way that you do.
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: ArthurHenri