Running Around the Cherry Tree

Don't you see?

That what you want for me,

Isn't what I need. To be

Happy.

To be free.

To be me.

Truly and unapologetically.

Don't you see?

You can't tell me

How to be,

Or how to agree

On a pointless degree

Of accuracy,

That you believe

Could save me

From this world of debris.

He told you, didn't he?

To rescue me from this dark sea

Of stupidity.

He's such a busy bee,

Isn't he?

Running circles around the cherry tree.

When he,

Should be

seeing me,

Sitting, waiting patiently,

Holding the key

To my own destiny.

And we would disagree.

But eventually,

You would see

That nobody

Can give me

A masters degree

In being happy.

And in reality,

To be free,

I must flee.

With a mind full of uncertainty.

And a heart laden with curiosity.

For my sensuality

Cannot be fulfilled with a University fee.

And so I must take this fruit that is in front of me,

From the poisoned tree

Of morality.

And battle with my own mortality,

To receive the freedom that comes with insanity.

And break free.

From all that you expect me

To be.

And finally,

Be happy

To be free.

To be me.