Believing again in what is not
I pursue something I could never obtain
My lust inspires my greed
Inspires my ignorance, and we are all the same in this

Too many want as I
I seek out solace
And among my brethren of the same
I am the lesser choice

I pursue in the most intricate fashion
Holding back temptation only to myself
Making my love oblivious to the out-world
Hoping no one finds out

Leaching toward oblivion
Using my Brethren as pawns
To seek out and relay to me
The information I’m without

My goals are clean and simplistic
Carried out in the most prudent manner:
Gain sentimental access to the Underground
Become one with the moles, the Greater Brethren

Alas, I am without this access, nor even the premonition of a key
To open these doors and cast aside aspiration
I am locked into myself, my Savior - myself
And no one hears the screams I keep silent

Wherein, hence, this day’s events
A journal log recording my darker side
Playing symphonic tunes in my head, over and over
About what music I think we would make

Yet again, I am wrong
For you were never much of a person for symphonies
And you are deaf to the music I lullaby others with
If crazy, and only in my mind

Shall this emotion ever fade?
I doubt that likelihood with a passion
But only the future perceives such events
And I am not Future, but Present

And what immoral indecency I can recall
And how easy (unfortunately) it is to put your face there
Against the bed sheets, el cama, profesor
With someone who will rob you of what can never be given back

What an appalling vision this is
The object of my affection tied this way to another
Repulsed and sickened, I shiver with fright
For this, my dear, is no joke at all

How can I (nor we, for that matter)
Know of true romance?
Elders are wiser, granted
Yet ignorant to think we are incompetent

Some of us bring such burden to tarnish my reputation
But my reputation is indifferent to everyone else
Solely alone because it has never before been heard
Thus, I am everyone else, and it sickens me to say so

How do I know you won’t give in?
How do I know you won’t be weak?
I bestow no trust it seems
For you, so I am to believe, are everyone else, as well.

What a plague!
What a vile disease
That I cannot trust even that which I love
Who I believed I knew all there was to know about

I make a sacrifice
Willing myself to be bestowed with embarrassment
Yet too feeble to approach
And confess my feelings

Now I know
Now I realize why I am among the Lesser Brethren
Looking upon myself
Down upon myself

I realize now that it is who I am:
The crudeness of my form and the root of all my vulgar evils
I have looked on to myself as I would look on to any other
And that is what has opened my eyes