Who is it then who remains
so easily persuaded to believe
in a pretty picture polished
and perfected, mirrored
and projected?

Is this not true meaning 
of gullible?

All my life I have been mocked
made fun of
called freak
or clueless,
stupid
or naive

But I carrry many clues that 
have yet to be received
and I am beautiful
and wise,
responsible
and free

Who then truly is most in need
of experience denied,
of wisdom rejected 
and judgment
unseen?

Call me naive
but I will hold my innocence,
these simple ways of moving
through a world of
cruel projection.

I will gather joys
like little flowers
and sing myself a lullaby
and sit beside the stream.

Laugh if you will.
Call on your spirits
to fend me off as I sit here
quietly smiling at the clouds
that gather to comfort me,

As I cry honest tears
and make my way back
to wonder and delight
and muse at how I
give you all such
a fearsome fright.