Trying to fit in
Was never a walk in the park
Because somewhere I knew who I was deep within
But that made matters only worse.
The icy saturn rings of my alien origins
Always cordoned off all traces of warmth
Even as the sun blazed down on my skin
And seeped into my bones.
A cosmic recipe I was turned into
Inside a human body with clay for dough,
I moved the way that the wind blew
Till my breaths condensed onto a glass window.
The thought of one day bidding adieu
To this competitive cookery show
Always clouded the the wonder of something new
And the aroma of my kitchen garden arose from trampling the flowers that grew.
Now forgiveness is said to be that fragrance
That a violet sheds on a foot
That has crushed it without repentance
Under the soles of its boot.
But I could never see the sense in the above sentence,
Forgiveness! My foot!
For this altruism is nothing more than acceptance
Of one's own version of limited truth.
All is governed by my perceptions in the end
where the inner and outer worlds coalesce,
I'm the center of my own circle with a soul patent
That is just a forgery of my opinions and judgements.
I can never see the angels descend
But the falling stars have a conspicuous presence
And to wear the holy halo on my head
I first need to wipe the glistening sweat off my forehead.