Hindsight has a way of finding us
and I’ve had to realize
the enigma of my resolve
That taking a stand
sometimes means listening to your heart.
And in my heart lies
that see through the illusions of our masks
Limitations which keep us bound.
In their own ways, those dearest to my heart
express disregard for the rules of social engagement
they’re only being themselves
free from the expectations of a human society
which takes itself for granted.
Maybe I care too much for what strangers
Fearful to let loose the true me.
But I am too tired
of listening to voices who have no concept
of things that are unlike them
That so easily cast stones and dispersions
Pot, meet kettle, black.