Through many a book have I heard tales of East,

Of myths wrought by this wondrous beast,

A creature, if it chooses not to show its might,

Shall remain hidden from the keenest sight.

 

When wrapped in gold, it blends with treasure's light,

Becoming one with radiance, pure and bright.

And when in silver’s gleam it seeks to hide,

It shimmers like a sword by warrior’s side.

 

They say it hides to shield from harm and pain,

But I believe it cloaks from cruel disdain.

A shield it dons from harsh and cutting tongues,

Concealing true hues, where its spirit longs.

 

Forgive me, chameleon, my skin, I shall not change,

To suit the fleeting whims of fashion's range.

My form's own dunes I will not shift nor veer,

To match the fleeting trends that others revere.

 

I care not for my outward look and face,

For deep within, my soul holds no set race.

It's neither right nor wrong in its own way,

It seeks its own path, come what may, each day.

 

No bit of self will change to fit a dream,

Of others' fantasies, no matter how they seem.

 

Dear chameleon, I will not change for the world's view,

I’ll strive to change it, if I can, that's true.

 

And if I fail, I'll be a bird in flight,

In search of home, through day and darkest night.

And if no home is found, my wings will spread,

My rusty feathers, my soul’s own trend, will abide.

 

They’ll clothe my soul, unbound and free of chain,

And if they change, it’s by my will, not pain.

So let your soul shine clear, as clear as mine,

Not gilded by false hues, let it shine.

 

Fly high, dear soul, be only yours, not theirs,

For if you're true, your light forever glares.

So shine, my soul, remember how to gleam,

And let your light live on, a constant beam.