What does it mean to be a unicorn? And what do unicorns represent? Presenting a bit of poetry, with inspiration from my drawing “Self-Made Unicorn”. One possible, if atypical, interpretation. Reflect … and enjoy.
How colorful, oh, so colorful! So dazzling be the sight.
So bright, yes, quite right! Dim, no rather light.
Magical, oh, so very so. So very so indeed!
Be ever in that stead, well, so great for every need.
Perhaps that’s what they see, when, oh, to me, they look.
Perhaps that’s what they think–just fleeting with every blink.
Perhaps that’s what they feel, when, talk with me, they do.
But to see and think even feel … is never to truly know.
I play the part, yes, for sure, or rather well I think.
Is it merely just a play, a way, or so much more than that?
Truth, or just appearance–looks or feelings or such no matter.
One can hardly tell ever better, than others think, feel … believe.
Not so bright, so full of light, not so long ago.
Such to know, oh it was so, might it yet still be.
Illusions close to magic–false colors o’er the grey.
Survival and its due, of course, no lesser that bedazzle.
Not so colorful at all, no, in scorching heat awash.
Light yet not to be found, down, in the darkest, deepest ground.
No footing to be had, well, standing of sorts, ‘midst the winds.
Fly I cannot, no magic like that; unsettling, ‘sides, some heights.
So much has been lost … so much has been taken.
Divergence along the way, for, seldom, it is, what we may.
Damaged in ways, as well it be hid, overcome, truly, I try.
I sometimes hurt, but so do they–might together, we find, the way?
The way? What way? Perhaps there are so many.
Woven in parts, quite distant in others, together, forever, NO way.
Alone, so alone … ‘ever accepting of such though I be.
In moments, united? Sure, be it so! Warmth to hold ‘long my way.
Always try all I can for myself, have and always will do.
What I cannot, and more, for them, helping light within me to grow.
Not quite the same, it’s pain all the same–indeed, surely, quite right.
Just keep the doubt, know worlds apart; truly, for them, not me.
How will it end? Who can say? ‘Spite the wrenching storms yet I stand.
It could be today. Really, today? In my own, unique way … yes it could.
Better for THEM, suppose, and me, try an’ foster more light, endure.
Forth come true colors, dazzling in sight … the magic, truly, at height.
Bonus! Here is a YouTube playlist of some songs I know, which I found myself thinking of and listening to at times as I was working on this poem. Perhaps I got a bit carried away (hence, in part, a playlist, as opposed to separate video embeds)–the first and last songs are the most relevant, I’d say. But, with all, I tried to keep some relevancy. As well, perhaps … enjoy.