Recognition Fame Admiration Are equivalent to a foul-smelling compost Intricately placed for the soil to play pretend I care much for it Like a plastic bag I let go Not in haste, But in hope it will be a kite for the sky It levitated With the winds beckoning But it knows no grace Affiliated with birds Its transposition for dimensions in the sky A juxtaposition for mansions below It twirls a dandelion A punching bag it is For the raging winds of the slighted It settles for the oddities amongst mundanities Choking birds dim-witted enough To underestimate its vigorous rebel of being impregnable The soil even shuns it