Beating the odds

 

Dear world, do not judge me,

For being a non-conformist.

With egos so fragile, I know,

“We” must no longer exist.

 

But often, what we have done,

Is superseded by who we have been.

Holds immense possibilities,

The future, not yet seen.

 

Who does the killer punch land on?

Only someone dearly loved.

It’s time we hold back our shots,

This is not what they deserved.

 

We all need a way to come back,

To the home picked by our hearts,

To soak some pristine love,

After, at the end of the day,

We have played our parts.

 

What sense does it make,

To portray ourselves as strangers then?

Why force the eyes to look away,

Is either of us a heathen?

 

The next time we come across,

I promise, I will rectufy the trends.

You, my long lost friend,

Will see long due amends.