The Epitome of Me (revised)

The recluse cloaked by anonymity
I am an enigmatic stranger
whose eye you will not meet,
whose name you will never know.
Would you not walk in my shoes?


I am the pauper and the prince,
I am judge and jury.
I’ll bite the hand that feeds
infecting, subjecting, respectively.
Collectively the cure and the disease.


Semi-rational but usually not.
A hardback book in the wrong jacket.
Misunderstood, misguided but not missed;
Too often a Walking Contradiction
Am I friend or am I foe?


The cliche of the day
but not called stereotypical.
The teacher of the class
who remains the eternal pupil:

How grey that line can be, it's the epitome of me.