Some people will always be narcissists,
Bothered not with their sisters or brothers.
To their simple minds they are the majesty
And the world bows to them for one thing or another.
Those who kowtow to the pettiness loved,
Those who shun the self-love hated.
And by grades so the narcissist is empowered, shrouded
In an image of their own inflated worth
(and the lesser worth of others) .
They will mock the righteous, the pious, the loving and the generous;
For those are the ones whose threat engulfs.
But in the end the narcissist will die alone
Because in the end none of us is truly ‘good enough'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem