Just for a heartbeat I consider your view – look back at myself from the angle of you; mind breaking free to make sense for one time, takes a new slant on what’s me and what’s mine. Not far away from another place But very same day, in my own space. For I see no reason, perhaps never will Why I am this ‘me’ - and am this ‘me’ still. Still damaged, still other, still needing to smother The feeling and thought that my nature has taught. Despite medication through led meditation and forced relaxation; a therapy whore promising for sure lifelong peace to secure, Like a carcase of meat in a chemical cure. Can I make my voice heard? Just the thought’s quite absurd, through your stereotype-casting, herd-following view? Will a time ever be when you like what you see? And I smile and am thankful I’ve not yet become 'you'.