There was a young man discovering,
Searching to find what to be.
Told he couldn’t be.
So he closed his eyes and looked down.  
He looked down so they couldn’t see.
Feeling eyes searching around,
“Look down, look down,” I’m not me.
And he grew into the man.
They loved the man he was told to be.
Praises abound, fell to the ground
Before the man they couldn’t see.
He could never be proud
And said, “this isn’t me.”
They lifted up the man they wanted him to be.
A day came around, walking, facing down.
And a man asked, “how do you see?”
Looking up and around
He saw the eyes searching, piercing
Piercing him, but they couldn’t see.
So he asked a man,
“Why are your eyes piercing me?”
And when asked was told,
“We’re trying to be what we’re told not to be.”
And he laughed when he found,
That hiding with his face to the ground
He couldn’t see all around
The others like him that shouldn’t be.
But to finally see, he looked around.
Looking around, he found
Others falling to the ground.
They couldn’t be what shouldn’t be.
The oldest around, experience abound.
Do they not say, “Get up off the ground,”
“Stay here with me, just be.”
Intelligence bound, reality not found.
All creation in the clouds.
Failure resounds in the land of make believe.