standing lonely amongst hundreds
beside me a man, a small favor asked
easily, I granted it to him and
he replied "you're one in a million"
I am one in a million
which if we labor the math
means maybe seven thousand more
exactly like me, perhaps with more panache
yet still it implies
seven thousand other guys
with thinning hair from fraying ends
no need to pretend
who dress somewhat plainly
and reheat day-old drinks
tell puns decidedly insanely
no matter what anybody thinks
I can't exactly decide whether
that's a comforting thought or not
six thousand, nine hundred, ninety nine
other "me"s - seems a hellva lot
should i argue, should i deny it?
should i stand in a police lineup?
and see if i am fingered
for being one among many?
cloned soul just like the rest of us
with a blank expression on my face
going through life nonplussed
with neither adoration or disgrace
well - no matter what is needed
to bring significance to my day
my emotions won't be depleted
thinking there's a crowd just like me
© Goode Guy 2013-08-27