No one needs to find beauty in the way I look.
No one needs to agree with what I stand for.
No one needs to admire the inner workings of me.
No one even has to like me.
They may very well hate me,
Maybe fear me.
Maybe give me a hug.
So here I stand,
Turning green.
Gosh no,
Not from envy,
Though you mortals walk around freely with your attitudes.
Green is what happens to copper.
And I am a statue of a pretzel twist,
Or maybe it’s a croissant,
Or a butter cookie.
That’s for you to debate.
I’m just being me,
Thank you very much.
Clare Graith 