I am an exhibit in the art gallery;
Different in the eyes of each critic who analyzes me.
I am a venturesome explorer;
Traveling the less worn path, while
I am just a stepping stone;
In the path of my neighbor.
I am an ever-changing rubix cube;
Wishing someone would stay to solve me,
Instead of just peeling off the stickers.
I am my own Clint Eastwood;
Making cameos in every scene.
I am the hopeless romantic;
Always dying for just one more sentimental dance.
I am an arid chameleon;
Periodically changing my exposition,
Based on the conditions that surround me.
I am sometimes an old western saloon;
Hiding behind my pompous frontal display.
I am also a vindictive, bottomless sea;
That hides some of its treasures within.
I am a fierce game of stud poker;
Some can be seen, but mystery that still lurks
Just may make or break who gets the pot.
I am ancient egyptian hieroglyphics;
Still trying to find out what I am saying.
I am a biblical parable;
Simple to read,
Yet hard to comprehend,
And easily misinterpreted.
I am a classic spaghetti western shoot-em?-up;
The epitome of impulse, thriving on adrenaline.
I am the do-or-die moment in every sport;
The rising above or crumbling under being at my own risk.
I am a snowflake looking for a duplicate;
Always searching for something that can?t be found. I am an exhibit in the art gallery;
Different in the eyes of each critic who analyzes me;
While the only critic I have to listen to,
To concur with,
To remember,
To fear,
Is myself.