Yesterday, I misread the word 'matinee' as 'manitee'
and was filled with a curious glee.
My disappointment upon mistake's discovery
were as if I myself had been a manitee
who'd thought, finally, the world has noticed me.
But so it is the rare must remain
unseen and mistaken, or else refrain
from inspiring what wonder they could not otherwise sustain
should their absence cease to breed hunger,
and hunger, greater gain.
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC
Yesterday, I misread the word 'matinee' as 'manitee'
and was filled with a curious glee.
My disappointment upon mistake's discovery
were as if I myself had been a manitee
who'd thought, finally, the world has noticed me.
But so it is the rare must remain
unseen and mistaken, or else refrain
from inspiring what wonder they could not otherwise sustain
should their absence cease to breed hunger,
and hunger, greater gain.
I asked myself, why are you so disappointed it doesn't say 'manitee'? This poem became the answer.