In the night I write;
In the day I dream.
Not so shallow as I seem.
On a stream of words my soul will ride:
Beyond the walls,
the yard outside.
Time, and time, and time again;
They try to teach me: foe and friend.
I don’t listen, or I can’t see;
The path that’s clearly best for me.
For the good of all, to them it seems:
You align yourself with generic dreams.
They will gently lead me to their rut:
Eyes wide open;
mind tight shut.
Cars to wash, lawns to mow;
Rush through life!
Do nothing slow!
Can’t you see?
That’s not the way it has to be!
It is our right, our life,
We can transcend:
And rules of men.
My plea is lost, every word;
To thunderous progress of the herd.
We fall in line, or else we lose.
Just dirt beneath the trampling shoes.
On the surface, clearly, I am a fool.
I shake, I stare, and sometimes drool.
But, Come! Come! Read! You’ll see.
Take my words and set them free.
Sure. I am a fool, a fool I’ll be.
But, will you be a fool with me?