After all that’s been said and done or not done,
they actually wonder what’s struck me so dumb,
perhaps I should’ve sent a universal memorandum,
to describe what’s been specified –
by the tribe where I come from;
when the shamans beat their’ drums,
and the forest sighs sweetly, and hums,
beckoning wakefulness to our Oldest Ones,
and as each awakens, a foundation gets shaken –
they can sniff out who doesn’t smell strong;
I only want to defy right here, under the sky –
close my heavy eyes and let it all be finally done;
I look around never to find anyone,
I have grown weary of trying to be strong,
my spirit rebels in a temper tantrum,
don’t chafe my hands, leave me just as I am,
I’m blessed and I’m cursed all in one.