Poem: Make it so

My friends were always like that:
I guess that's why I chose them.
Always going out, making art, giving their life meaning
despite all social resistance.
God bless them all.
And I could go along with them:
to Burning Man,
to parties,
to raves,
loving their zest
for life
but knowing the whole time
that I was not like them.
Not anymore.

My freedom was spent,for the most part, in my youth.
I travelled the land, free of fears,
or aims, or burdens.
That was a long time ago.
My ability to think, dream, and plan, became...
Molded, conditioned,
into certain pathways.
Slowly, but surely creating
a mind not made for
joy and art,
but for
survival, for protection,
and quick pleasures are the only guarentee of happiness.

I need to learn to dream again:
Bigger and brighter and clearer.
he Universe is Mine
and I can do with it what I will.
Make it so!