There Is No Mould

There is no mould from which I’m poured,
My life is not a vision board,
I am not square, nor am I round,
I wander in the lost and found.

My D.N.A. is mine alone,
Unique and random in the zone,
Where others fear to ever tread,
My world exists inside my head.

I’m solo when I bang my drum,
My rhythmic beats are number one,
With no interpretation sought,
I live a life with much retort.

I am a pea without a pod,
Avoiding every wretched sod,
Who tangles in their web of lies,
I cannot wait to say goodbyes.

There is no brush to tar my worth,
I navigate through dread and mirth,
By breaking through the other side,
To manic places where I hide.

And decks are stacked for mighty gain,
Which brings about such torrid rain,
That pegs have splintered from their hold,
My path is paved with grease and gold.

There is no mould from which I’m poured,
I’ve visions yet to be explored,
Not square, nor round, my shape is best,
I stumbled lost, but found my quest.

© The Complicated Bunny – 01 June 2022