Wayward.

True to my nature, I continue to stay Present, Live and Direct

There’s not a soul walking Earth that I perceive as a threat.

I’d rather burn in the sun than hide in someone’s shadow

I refuse to find comfort in strangers eager to play Operator

Eager to fiddle with the locomotion governing my train of thought.

ill-intent — with its crooked wheels — is quick to be derailed,

From my track, bulldozing its way through some wayward woods

Where it rightfully belongs — getting lost in its own confusion

— and still, some part of me continues to hope

It finds itself a home.

– O.D. ©2023

Art by: arcipello

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