With the light of heavens on my back,

It is difficult to sense my own grace.

Tiptoeing barefoot through the forest in search

Of a sense of meaning.

Peace does not know me too well,

I do not like to look back, only forwards

Forwards. Forwards.

My feet melting into this Earth,

If I were to merge, perhaps I would become the planet itself.

I would be one of the free ones,

With no one to tell me what to do, how to feel.

I told them many things about myself

But they told me I was wrong.

How is that? How can What I feel be wrong?

It took so many years for me to realize it was them.

They were wrong.

It is taking so many more years to realize that I am not

And what I feel is real

And who I am is valid.