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ISNESSRANT

I have a habit of hanging out
Rooting around and digging about
Being where I should not be
Because I actually want to see
Taking things apart I usually smirk
Finding how they really work

Things are sometimes strangely made
In places where great plans are laid
Behind the gloomy human scenes
And most unique clandestine means
Ideas are wrestled and finely wrought
bartered, hidden, sold and bought…

That’s how it is I know a lot
Yet when I look at me I’m fraught
With a twisted oblique tangle
An odd opaque perception mangle
I need some clarity to see
It is rarity to fully be

Everything turns a dusty gray
I’m always in my own slow way
The path I take seems like the one
That will get me where I run
The race to fine tune my own song
Where can I be going wrong?

I see little men are by my side
They want to take me for a ride
They really do all seem so smug
Pushing me under the sameness rug
Want me to be like all the others
A perverse idea my sanity smothers

Perhaps I don’t want freedom enough
Being myself is really rough
I have a feeling of the sort
That would cause me to abort
All my good and timely intention
At first sign of danger’s mention

I find it hard to step off the ledge
Always holding onto an edge
How is it I never dare
To go and fly without a care
Drifting off to lands unknown
My damn self-editor out on loan

Creation of meaning is satisfying
Why then is my mind still sighing
I thought this way of being flowed
Is the Universe in testing mode?
Throwing rocks along my way
To see if I really, really want to play

I really, really want to play