I do no not know why they lie,
I do not know why they all loathes who they are,
I do not know why they swore to lose their own slant,
Not all of them, but most of them with great height.
—But don’t ever be like them, even all you envy
Is to be like them, to dress like them and swear to lose
Your own slant when you are one of them.
I have note countless of hollow ones amidst them,
Those the nightingale ceased to please,
Those who wish to grasp the moon with claws;
If God gives them an hint!
those who leap from accustomed loss of wisdom,
And grovel to nature to secure many fancy; than
The sky would rather hate.
Who am i to tell you what to do?
Who am i to say what they are—is fake?
You can lie like them; all you want,
You can loathe who you are, but when you swear to lose
Your own slant; make sure you are not successful
And soaked in wealth like them.


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