sometimes i feel like such an impostor.
searching but contented-feeling, happy while alone
i'm simply the most compicated girl i've ever known.
is it a crime to just stay different - original, standout?
is it so bad to stand for things i think that i'm about?
for love and freedom, grace and peace, a wit that does no harm,
for independence right along with classy feminine charm.
i'm grace without the gracefulness, righteous but in the wrong -
i can't stop singing, but i have yet to find a heartfelt song.
desired but not desirable, confused, i say! complex!
i watch as mountains of desire transform to far-off specks....
the good times, the warm feelings -
they love me even though i'm different, don't they?