Con-Form

The spirit

That lives inside this soul

Is taking form

 

From birth

I was confounded and constrained

Pushed and pulled—

Shaped by human hands to fit their mold.

Their hold, they hoped would not grow old

Not questioned or detected.

 

I will not please these faker makers

I will not fill their empty space.

 

I’m not a clone to be projected

From some other place and time.

I’m not a copy to be modeled

Before or after

 

I am myself

Endowed with freedom

Scope and laughter

Never bound

Never re-mastered

 

I roam the planes and soar the skies

I am myself

A child of God

 

People without vision fail to understand

They look me in the eyes and fear

The unbound, wild, natural power

That peeks out from deep inside.

 

“You can’t afford to live like this”

Is something people say,

“You must be real and down your zeal.”

To them I say, “I am con-form.”

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