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
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