Wading through a sea of dissenting voices,
Of demand and expectations –
I row whichever way.

Caught in the winds of naming and pointing
At the various constellations –
I see whatever I see.

None who know not themselves
Will ever know me as I know myself;
This is the only me that matters
To me.

Their shouts and admonishments
Are aimed at an imaginary man
Crafted in their own minds
Without my input.

They do not hear me,
They do not see me

Merely reflections in their mirrors
Of a man who never was.

I will proceed.

They will misunderstand.

I will suffer—

I accept.


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