in response to observations

I stare at the sun, too, you know.
I, too, long to touch the sky
When crimson beams envelope the horizon
And for an instant the spectrum is complete.

At nightfall I gaze upon a black canvas
And curse our lives for hiding the stars
That have long ago stopped trying
To free their fiery bodies.

Among a crowd of bodies I walk alone
And hear nothing but my thoughts,
My selfish, pointless thoughts
That waver between daydreams and banter –
Banter with myself, with the faces on which
I mark my daily ration of metadiscourse,
Subconsciously overdosing to the point where
I no longer find bliss in acceptance.

Why stand, unwanted, in the hub of conformity
When the path less traveled is calling you by name?
We know you’ve chased the maverick
But, by God, no, Satan, no, someone, you aren’t alone.