I don’t care for wants or needs,
Or winds, or trees,
For me, they just are,
And is that wrong?

I see myself as a spirit,
A force, for good, as of course,
We are here, and then gone,
By tomorrow’s end.

So before all of that,
I leave you good will,
Or as much as I can,
Dear friend.

But I feel I am bound,
By other’s weary chains,
And they hold me,
To something else.

I’m stuck on the ground,
With my head in the clouds,
Trapped inside,
An expectant shell.


But being me is freedom,
To think,
To travel, or wait and see,
As I care very little, for wants and needs.