Instead of wrestling around here
And chasing my dreams and fleeing from fears
Maybe I'll run out of breath and stop
At a high altitude mountain top.

Maybe instead of stockpiled art
And information, and all these parts,
I can clear my mind for a long time
And work through the stigma in my mind.

The fears, though all are self-inflicted,
Also can name society as their derivative.
What do they think, what will they think,
Will I ever escape society's brink?

Etc...before me, such a plethora
Of options of routes to go down.
And they are just detours along the walk
That many people tread, and very few balk.

Should I trudge on? Should I sulk?
Smiling so much, acting so false?
Or should I just go on and take it all off?
And seek my own personal mountain top?

There's too much invested, too much to lose
But who knows what's worth keeping.
Everyday, I put on my shoes,
And my heart keeps on beating.