Heaven
I've not had much truck with God
Since I was young and praying hard
To be just like the others. No one heard
(of course) and irritated, stubborn, proud
I swore I would no longer bow my head
To those who did not their own rules abide.
Still I am haunted ever and again
By vague ideas of heaven, haven, home -
Some vital place; where my thoughts are my own,
Burning like fire. The day will come
When you will stand beside me there and know
The only true gods dance behind our eyes.
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