You are so well-primed to feel shame,
But it needs you to feel you can
Nudge the world, make up your own mind.
It’s a ruse, a trick, like the light
Your brain sees for you, that you’ve learned
Bit by bit, is but a small slice
Through all the waves that run through night.
You sort of know that it’s a trick.
Now and then you push it from you.
There is some shit I will not eat!
But then, in your cell with your pain,
You moan, sad and small all the night,
And you ask, what choice have I made?
