Bad Poetry Never Dies

Looking back over files of Very Bad Poetry Written While In A Funk. This, from 2002:

FADE TO HAPPY (2002)

I've often thought lately
That maybe I'm not that bright, less than some.
A dangerous, self-defeating thought?
Perhaps an invitation to be content
An open door to understanding and acceptance.
A whisper to move into
A new thought space
One where I do not judge myself
In the same old ways.
One where I know myself to be valuable
Without an entry fee of IQ points
Without a dossier of Important Accomplishments
But a new party, where the other guests
Are more like myself.
Flawed, but curious, open, changing
Unwilling to be impressed by the old academic games
Or to judge everyone else by the same standard.
No need to shake them down
To make sure they are less
So that we are more.
An open field, where I can spin
Arms open, looking up at a clear blue sky
And all the limiting voices from outside, from inside,
Just fade away.