The Thinker

He is a great thinker, they would often say. For his gift they would often utter, any cost we would be willing to pay. Opportunities in solitude he would seize. And he saw things that no one else could see. He saw musical notes in the winter breeze. He saw intricacy in the simple bumble bee. His poetry was innovative. His arguments were precise Inside his mind were thoughts evocative. Living in his daydreams, he considered to be nice. But this genius wasn’t without flaw. He had one Achilles heel. All sorts of lovers and friends he saw, and to him they had no appeal. And to his company of friends he put a stop, and sought his own mind for his thrills. For when one has stood on the mountaintop, he can no longer enjoy the low-lying hills. For the normal man, friends and fortunes are his themes. His creature comforts he will never exhaust. But the Thinker cannot live without his daydreams, for every gift has a cost.