I’m born
To be born again
In another form
Half mine half his
But all mine
Am told
By
Religion?
Is that the word
For family
Friends
And strangers too
They think they know me better
Maybe do
But they must struggle
To believe
They know my mind
Inside
Like I do
I can see
The walls
And read the veins
Stretched below the surface
That spell out
So clearly
That I am not interested
In that kind of end
But
I don’t know what I think
As I don’t know what I thought
Before I was told what to think
Because I didn’t know how to know
Because my brain was still pliable
Taking on whatever shape
I was passing through
So how do I know what I think?
Maybe you’re right after all
Maybe I’ll grow into it
And it’ll grow into me