Priorities

A Theory for Drug-Free Clarity

I see the crowd conform—a chorus chasing norm.

Each day, a masque of gain,

Where truth dissolves in feigned disdain.

They dance on humble ground with glee—while I remain, just simply me.

I dream of flight from cities cold,

Where hearts are bought and love is sold.

To lands where coin means naught to be, and love flows wild, and souls are free.

I'd plant a seed, I'd grow a tree—a quiet grove for her and me.

But life has met me with deceit, and left me yearning for retreat.

Yet still, I hold—humanity. I pray for time, for clarity.

Romance has roamed through all my past, its fires brief, yet burning fast.

In acts of passion, I plead insane—yet who I am, I won’t feign.

Anonymity, I can't disguise—my soul is written in my eyes.

And in the art of truth, I see a simple, honest liberty.

I know my path. I know my creed.

If you have heart, then take the lead.

Walk beside me, carefully—on this road of self-discovery.

I am who I am, and I know who I’ll be.