You won't receive anything from me,
So stare—I don't care.
Your visions are incomplete.
Go ahead and gossip down hallway stairs.
There are those who don't prefer to be free;
Society's chains to them are pleasant dreams.
I rather avoid the nightmarish scenes
Involving being tied to those called "family."
Our definitions differ, Can't you see?
Nature's goal is to blossom, not to cease.
If a rose by the river is surrounded by weeds,
Should we let it wither because they all share leaves?
Edwin Cordero's Other Poems
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