I have been foolish
A fool as well
Yet, it is misunderstood by so many
Some interpret it as being dim witted
I have been thought of as slow
Whereas others have called me brilliant
On occasion, they are the same person
The reality is that of a damaged mind
Not a matter of intellect
No, that is not why I call myself a fool
Your opinion does not define me
I alone may do that
There is another way to define it, though
If you reach back into history
The fools wandered into the hall
Once the food has been eaten
Spinning, dancing, cavorting
They made fools of themselves
To entertain the high born
Or, perhaps, those accidentally born lofty
They spoke words that would have jailed another
Satire and mockery
Saying as they pleased
Always on the edge of disaster
Entertaining, yet needling
Respect reserved for those deserving
All others fair game
This is what I strive for
I am That Fool
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