MARK BERNARD MATTHEWS
Self it seems mere memes to please my genes
A string of code to be bought and sold
I accept this trend, makin’ self my friend
Never mind who sinned, listen to the wind
Knowing self must be the noblest endeavor
The trick is knowing what thoughts to sever
What I think I know, tis my only real foe
Letting go of illusions is how I grow
We are more than blood, tissue, and bone
Inside a spirit reside, and maketh known
that with attention and care maybe grown
Our ideas have a lifeforce all thier own
Words contained a will which is very bold
Infecting minds of both young and old
Eagerly we host the lies we are told
Dreaming we may brake the mold
Yet is it I, or something else inside
A truth from which I earnestly wish to hide
I cling to the shelter in which I abide
Like a faithful pet ever by my side
Self at its best, is merely a protest
Relinquish control, cries my human soul
But to my chagrin, my ego speaks again
Perhaps in the end, I may see to begin
posted Mar 19, 2002, 4:12:15 PM