I never wrote about the moonlit sky,
the mountain peaks, sun gliding by,
the waves in the sea, greens in the trees,
I was somehow always stuck with me.
Each morning had something new in store,
new hopes, new loves, new dreams and more,
and all of that I would ignore,
I would search till I found new misery.
Every misery had a messiah,
I'd close my eyes, let life steer,
the messiah would then become the master,
& before I would know I'd have lost all control.
I would live my life led by others,
their notions of right and wrong,
their happiness and their whims.
And finally I couldn't breathe,
conforming took up a lot of my life,
but the rest of it, I'm taking it back,
I don't need a messiah.
Now I see the birds, I see the bees,
I see the dew-drops on the leaves.
May be I'll write about them the next time.