Because he exists beautifully without it all.
His experiences don’t show in his expressions of speech
Or otherwise.
A tarman has equal relationships, has as much love as he gives.
He’s indifferent to lesser mortals, oblivious, almost,
His deeds reflect in his peaceful demeanour;
His nails are never bitten to the quick.
A tarman saves the best chocolates for himself,
And, sometimes, for the ones who love him,
Not for the ones he loves.
A tarman is not freaky;
She’s learning to mend her freaky ways.
I heard the vocalization of a tarman today.
He needed ears.
He wasn’t afraid, or cautious, or hesitant.
He’s almost invisible. He doesn’t know how she craves to be like him.
To him, she’s invisible, too.
He has self-respect that she’s trying to copy.
He doesn’t go whenever they call, he waits
Until the best goes by
And all he has to do is pick.
He has friends, she’s getting there,
She’s got a few herself.
A tarman doesn’t give a damn what you think of him.
He believes in himself
And his ability to win friends and influence people,
Or something like that.
A tarman waits until he is ready for the world,
Not the other way around.
He reads poems written for him.
She writes poems, hoping they’ll be understood someday.
