A too well-behaved outsider, I gaze at prison walls, longing
to be one with the caged souls within

A mistake, and they are gone-- escaped into choicelessness,
the bliss of certainty that all is lost, ended

And so they sit, walk about when instructed
and know what it is to be a dog

while I am compelled to decide
what to do

So I'll go where so many others have gone,
be just another wanderer, directionless at best,

a creator
creating useless goods society will not buy

What will I do? Where will I go? What will I believe in?
How can I make you understand the certainty of my uncertainty?

I am going nowhere,
and maybe that's best for me