i cannot stand the
mundane atrocity of this life.
no more shall i toss and wake
at every injustice done.
nor shall my fervent dreams
confront every soul that takes
the stand as inadequate.
and my sorrows, deep
beneath the flowers,
which make their advances
towards the night sky,
from forgotten buds,
shall cease to bloom.
only to do so upon recognition
of society, how willful.
and only once my petals have
settled on the moon,
should i rise.