The Minority

Do they expect me to write,

lyrics upon their whim?

That it takes nothing more,

then words on the brim?

Should I look away,

from disastrous hymn,

and do as they say,

and go out on a limb?

Must I take their mad requests,

and dance for their amusement?

Should I put my soul for sale,

or even just for rent?

Why should I plan ahead,

and not live for the moment?

T’hell with ‘em all, it’s my life,

my time’s came and went.

I’m giving up to fit your site,

your view of perfection.

You and I think different ways,

we have clashing perception.

You can take your own path,

and I’ll go my direction.

I’m trading out your expectations,

for acceptance and affection.


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