There is that Which divides us, Makes us into a neat Set of boxes that stack and flow Into so many shapes And yet no one is Completely Single-nature or so they tell me-- There are depths and complexities That I should forgive and forget But should that be true And I can't Then perhaps that is The way it must be But I am confused And the light is failing and my eyes And my capacity To give and not take To turn the Christian Cheek And the meek was pushed out With the ink and the dye maybe Maybe you don't want to Find out But the box won't hold me Because I am not a box and my boxes are not one I choose the real world And your control will someday Become ineffectual bullets As I become The One
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