Freedom

I remember the mood being reflective, terse, and a little bit antagonistic at how often my friends were attempting to manipulate me. I believe this was written around 1994.

Dewey mornings
Night’s fire and ice
Pine afternoons
Evening vanilla
Parasite of lust
Soap box for ambition
Scrooge of talent
Lives of prohibition
Judge me
Censor me
Educate me
Mislead me
I still have my thought.
Rape my intellect
Gorge on my desire
I still smell the dew in the morning
I still find my passion in the night
I still walk in the forest under the bright sun
I still relax with my incense when the sun goes down
I still have my thought