A Birthday Ode

They say that no gift is better than the one requested and it is true indeed. Here is something to your name, like it or not, it is you. I can already hear your protest gurgling from the back of your throat. So leave it, drop it. And begin to accept it.

Don’t you dare discount my two cents of poetry for anything less. If it is beautiful, it must then be right and true. If it is inaccurate, you have insulted me by calling me a liar. So be very wary of what you say. And oh, happy birthday by the way. Heh.
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The measure of a man can only be measured by the opinions of others.
Never by the sizing up that is done in the privacy of your personal mirror.
That is just not accurate; remember parallax error and other errors possible.

For the person who measures so peculiarly the many virtues of others,
And judges so accurately the subtle blemishes in the faces of others.
Your mirror reflects only your magnified flaws and diminished sparkle.

And may that be your largest flaw.

Of course it is kept in mind that hell will conclude this chapters’ production.
Masquerading a list of flaws; when I am only willing to list a solitary one.
But what use is a list when one is colossal, masking the many others?

Try again next year, when I can see clearly, a better complete list.
Maybe I can then try and sieve the honest hidden shortcomings,
From your many imagined lack of virtues, once the lone ghost disappears.

Because, your perceived best quality, remains one of your very worst.
Marriage of your best scope of objectivity to your sublime mentality,
Sculpts the tyrant that you endearingly adore, and yet should violently avoid.

That is your largest flaw,
Being so very accommodating of the thought that you are the absolute worst.
When in truth it appears, you are not that bad at all…