Phoenix

Sometimes I want to scream “This is not me!" But then who would I be Without these reflections Of the world outside So I abide In the lie of conformity And do my best to ignore the enormity Of the universe inside my head, All the things I should have said, All the mountains I could have climbed But for fear I have resigned Myself to a life of uneventful safety Forgoing the magic and majesty Of living in flow For a self-made cage of despair and regret However… My epitaph has not been written just yet My grave is six feet too shallow And I have no use for the myths of yesterday Or tomorrow Here is where I start Now is when I spark It is the hour of my birth