So many of your songs allude to “they.”
You’re so concerned with what they say.
I guess success hasn’t helped your esteem,
like someone’s trying to ruin your dream.
Anyone with an alternative slant
is labeled a hater in your rant.
It’s like everyone has to be your fan,
the ultimate narcissistic plan.
As an old musician, I’d offer some advice
If you sing from your center, that should suffice.
But it won’t matter what I say.
You’ll put me in your song and call me “they.”
Know thyself, said Socrates.
The master of philosophies
espoused a life of recognition
of that within one’s own cognition.
Love thyself, said the Christ,
showing that it has a price
beyond the realm of one’s own
to neighbor and the world unknown.
Though I’ve often been Socratic led,
more likely I’d take the Messiah’s part.
Knowledge builds a swollen head.
Love develops a swollen heart.
There was no noise that I could hear.
Yet the silence could not dispel my fear,
piercing my soul like an unseen spear,
that I could never be truly alone here.
Then suddenly I became aware
of some subtle shifting in the air.
I crumbled to the sand in my despair.
WiFi had truly reached everywhere.