I Want to Be a Myth

I want to be a myth,
a great tale,
an epic battle
against good and evil
from which people draw lessons,
and take notes,
and on which they write papers.

And as they admire and criticize
I weep
behind the cascade of time
and under the symbol of the word
I weep real tears
and I go on living my mythical life
so far away from reality
but no less true.

It’s hard to be a myth.
You have to endure
the trampling of feet as time
ushers in a new day, year, era—
And Change with its child Difference,
Ferocious beasts with sharp, pitiless eyes—
That scrutinize my mythical body.
Am I still true?
Timeless?  Universal?
And when they approve, I am so happy.
I am a myth!
So splendid and true in my ideals,
But no less false.


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