A poem for complicated people who want to change how we are when how we are works already

I can never change

I’m too far beyond range

I’m too far beyond help or forgiveness

You’ll just say it’s my age

Or my luddite like ways

But how I do what I do’s

Not your business

 

You’re never much fun

But I get the job done

In my old skin with old ceremony

Old Karma, old sutra

But that doesn’t suit ya

Even though your zeal’s

Pure missionary

 

I once knew a girl

Now a woman like you

With principles clinging to all we’d do

Hung up on her hang ups,

Brewing storms in tea cups,

Getting off on a down …

With a worn frigid – frown .