Wich Is the Way

My mind, tis restless, my thoughts are in the obscure, Often wandering aimlessly, Where is the direction, the course that I should follow? Alas tis lost. Is it, that I must search, life’s often tread, happen tracks, Or that a new path, be cut. Is everything elusion, Caused by a self dreamt, delusion, Where is purpose, in what direction? Of Mine, I seek not to walk in the path of the self righteous, Nor there indignations, Yet be humble, though not aloof. To walk amongst the people, Not to lead, nor to follow. My genre, is such, that I am what, I am, Not that wich I should be, For Me, I see clearly my direction, Cut cleanly through the haze, I will be all of myself, that I can, Trying not to deviate from its direction to often, As I need its instinctive ness, its uniqueness, I shall be as one, yet not of the pack, This is my Way. Clement Hardy.