To tell the truth, I never have been good
At fitting in, or acting as I should.
In my experience, I’ve often found
I almost never stand on common ground
With those around me. I can crack a smile
And fake a conversation for a while
With folks I know could never understand
The things I think about, the worlds I’ve spanned.
The masses seem content with common sense;
I’d mount an intellectual defense
Of weaker statements, just to demonstrate
That I am still the stronger in debate.
I might not win a fight of fists and feet,
But even if I was forced to retreat
I would take satisfaction in the fact
That for their fear of me I was attacked.
And if I walked home, bleeding nose in air
To made the chewing cattle stop and stare,
And moo to one another, “Look at that!”
Before returning to their habitat,
Then I think I could take a crumb of pride
In what I’ve done. But I can’t step inside.
The night is cold. I’ve nowhere else to go.
I’ve never slept outside, but now I know
There’s no one in the world that I can trust.
So I’ll roll up my sleeves, do what I must
To prove to them that I won’t fail again,
Not that I even care what lesser men
Who stand within the shadow of another,
Self-satisfied to choke within the smother,
Could think of me, the one who dared to dream,
The one with just an ounce of self-esteem,
The one who who fights and never has submitted,
The one who does not want to be acquitted.
You see? I’m not afraid to speak my mind,
And what a mind it is! But I’m resigned
To never throw the towel in, to roam;
I’d rather die before returning home.
I could not bear to feel the others gawk
At me, who standing on the porch to knock
Would break down into tears, fall on my knees,
And beg forgiveness, just to live in ease.
I hate this tender softness in my soul
That almost robs me of my self-control;
I’d rather walk on burning coals than lose
This right to think for me, this right to choose
What I want for myself. Is love a vice?
Are all of them pretending to be nice?
The lovers all demand servility,
Condemn their objects to sterility;
They fashion for you fetters, break your might,
Then turn around and claim their chains are light.
Man in his weakness hates the stronger man,
The slower hates the one who faster ran,
The foolish hate the wise, the poor the rich;
The jackals leave the lion in a ditch.
The masses are content to wait and see,
But that life isn’t good enough for me.
I’d rather sit this cold and loveless throne
To rule a kingdom mine and mine alone
Than love. I think I’m better on my own.