Patterns

trying to be yourself whilst others hold you under the microscope, these “patterns” revealed, those of which do not lend any conclusions, are drawn up as if they do, by individuals out on the branches as crows at a funeral, like vultures in the desert, like bloodthirsty scaremongers wanting the whole of your happiness for themselves--- funny to meet s/he who roams as if the world was their oyster, funny to meet such a naïve twit--- funny to watch them change like Autumn leaves, into those very same wolves who hunt in packs to stop you from exhibiting any individuality, any semblance of a unique path in life.