Some exist a wise clown,
dwelling peacefully in
the grim garbs of a jester.
Sprouting often exquisite pearls,
of wisdom here and there;
somewhere in between the
words that men consider banal.
While few exist intellectual
suffering peevishly in the
golden robe of a wise man.
Shackled enslaved by their
pretentiousness, declined and despised
by their intellect. Banished and
forever cursed to measure each word
with someone’s rhyme and meter.