I am left with myself and with my mind I flee,
As no one cares for it without my sorry plea.
I sit in the corner, sobbing, I let them thrive-
The thoughts and ideas from which I dreams derive.
The Random Strokes of Genius, or so they are called;
They come by themselves, and before me they unfold
The thoughts and ideas and words and their beauty;
They show me their wisdom, as this is their duty.