The world can be quite an imposing place:
Endlessly demanding conformity,
Always with a dark new enormity
To fatally threaten the human race.
Inventing novel lenses to retrace
A protean past of deformity
Molded for the current majority;
What does that look like on your only face?
The only thing we can do is be us.
Here, where death awaits individuals,
We know our term, yet we only revere
Those who burn singly, even unto dust.
Let's live and love without hurting our peers,
Joining our own paths as originals.
A place for my poems 