complex

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?