I've inhabited the inner industrial walls of my head
ever since I can remember.
Willing to sacrifice trivial pleasure for thought,
potential and significant conversation
was too often dismissed as lo-fi dissonant crosstalk.

There wasn't an abundance of characters
in the confines of my elitist circle,
which was essentially a nonlinear grey area
suppressed and pulled back out
from time to time for self-evaluation.

I was far too conscious of new-fangled opinions
and young judgment.
Because so little of what I did wasn't preemptive,
even the yellow and orange playground equipment
was compromised,
which was honestly never to inviting.