Forgetting the Future

I am not the professor of a miserly profession,
Merely the processor of a motley depression,
I did not create my recreational obsession,
Nothing‘s mine but a sense of possession

I am the cage that went in search of the bird,
My every step is my every word,
I conform to the nonconforming herd,
What you find rational - I deem absurd

I’m forgetting the future of the skirmish of old,
Fighting the past to escape from it’s hold,
I’m a golden llama but I’m not made of gold,
I’ll melt before I’ll ever be sold

The tripwire treading urchin who did not realize,
Nothing did he see that he did not surmise,
I am his pleasantly confusing surprise,
He’ll never learn truth till he unlearns the lies

Nature’s retarded plan I defy,
I refuse to be draped in this denim sky,
If I never laugh I may never cry,
If I was never born -then how may I die?



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