In this world I am blind
Sightless to whom I am supposed to be…
to what I am reputed to do
Disharmony grates the reality
That I am alleged to believe in…
forcing alternative thought into my head
This arouses an enlightening belief
That I do not need to be a success
In everyone's eyes
I do not need to fit in
With the status quo
I do not need a 401k or a salary
What I need is happiness
Something not contingent upon
The aforementioned
What I need is love
Always seeming to be contingent
Upon several conditions
What I need is life
Contingent only upon
The death of 'contingent' and 'conditional.'

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