You are the misunderstood
Laugh to spite the gods because
What did they ever do for you?
Birthed you into a world of cliche pain
Hera gave Pandora curiousity, yet Aphrodite
Gave you the capacity to love someone
Who will never quite love you, too.
So spite the gods.
Prometheus gave man fire with which to burn our food,
Our flesh, and our darkness.
He gave you sight so you could see
The hatred all around you, the
Beauty you can never quite reach, the
Trolls under your bridges waiting to
Feed on your agony.
So spite the gods.
Pin your pain on Echo, the punished,
Sharing her life of damnation with you,
You are chosen, misunderstood.
You deserve to be more than a repetition of
Other people, you deserve a voice of your own.
You deserve speech.
So spite the gods.
Spite the gods and their foolish vanity.
Narcissus, well recieved, dying with the love of his life
Who never quite loved him back.
Narcissus rained his vanity unto society
And forgot that some people, like you
Have umbrellas made of kindness and
Rainboots made of clouds, as to never kill
Another "trivial being."
Of course, you forgot, that your unbrella and booties
Won't save you if the land floods
To fill your boots with the vanity of others.
You own a shield, but not a sword.
You look down on others, for no one can
Completely avoid the wrath of rain,
But only to help the fallen up from the ground.
You were born small
And you stayed small
In body
  Not in mind.
So, go on, blame society for your pain.
Blame the gods for your flaws.
But its not worth it.
You are better than society, you are better than the gods.
You bloom when you see the sun.
You bleed when the sun scorches your skin.
You are bright.
You are beautiful.
You are loved.
You are
the
misunderstood.