"i just want to say that i think that you're wonderful
i don't understand why you're not a professional"
i look at her face trying to mask incredulity
but though she's misguided there's clearly sincerity
my mind begins racing and soon i've forgotten
the myriad reasons that i'm really not one
and part of my brain that so wants to agree with her
is screaming to tell me that /is/ how things really are
a moment of madness soon cedes to lucidity
and impotent anger at my own stupidity
for daring to think that i'm out of the ordinary
that there might be anything there to commend in me
cos if i believe her i must believe equally
the many more voices who've reckoned me awfully
i laugh off her compliment trying to sound grateful
it's not really modesty just an innate wall
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