I change
or I'll wither

human I am-
to myself alone
I belong
to none other

I'm what I am
because I change-
if people don't
that'd be truly strange

it's moving ahead
to meet odds
and every challenge
I might not achieve
but not changing
is to be enslaved

I'll not be the same
but from others
and life
I'd not be estranged

no tricky game
I'm playing
only myself *******
to a new enlarged stage.

Who dares say
self-pity is unhealthy?
The sufferer bleeds
known to nobody:

the self looks at itself
as none other ever could
the depth that devours it
the pain that nothing can soothe

the world is other people
each unto their own, steeped
beyond that carved boundary
it doesn't care to look or peep

who has the authority
to say self-pity is unhealthy?
When into hard times that person falls
he will hold on to it---so very tightly!

Yes, I'll be back
and not slack
substance, my words
will not lack

instead the hardest walls
they will easily crack
when meaning has been found
where would there be any lag?

Innocence
  wins over experience
  it holds no offence
  it needs no defence

experience
stifles innocence
it steals the latter's beauty
and robs it of its essence.

I'm member
of no club
on my own
happily I sup

if I were there
I'll find the perpetual snub
I'm at my kitchen now
doing my meal--where's the rub?

I ask no prize
from life
being sufficient
on my own:
to that direction
I never turn
my eyes

all wanting
is but strife-
only a child
would this need
out of insecurity
and pride

living
on my own terms
in simplicity
acceptance
and contentment
is my most
precious prize

never, never
have I ever wished
for any paradise.

I choose
the life of freedom
lived in poverty
over the serfdom
of prosperity