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Conceit, such a wonderfully multifaceted word,
can mean so much; its meaning is context bound.
Yes, you have to read between the lines,
to catch its specific defines. Not a easy as it might sound.
Is it “excessive pride in oneself”, “An ingenious or witty turn
of phrase or thought” or “a fanciful poetic image”? Are they the same?
Let’s skip away from narcissism, follow the poetic path.
Poetry is, after all, the name of our game.
It rests on a democratic ideal, my thoughts are of equal value to yours
(and vice versa). The mode of expression might differ.
The storehouse of memory will carry different stock,
arranged in a selected order. Each to their own,
priorities are priorities; not some deserted house in the “red zone”.
Tell me your story, sing me your song; paint me a picture:
it can’t be wrong. Immerse me in your world; treat me as a guest .
I am not here to criticise. Together, separately, we do our best.
Tagged in les bush