Is It Not So Bad To Be Lost?And, my dear, is it not so bad to be lost?More Like This
I for one quite enjoy the brambles in my hair
And mud between my toes.
Never will I wish now, for red drawing rooms
To take the place of the green canopies I sleep under.
Or for great gold chairs to topple my thousand year oaks
(Which make just as good a seat).
And should I ever say nay to the symphony of birds,
Orchestra of crickets or the chorus of frogs
That lullabies me to sleep,
Please hang me by my neck until dead.
For never again do I want to be among counterfeit friends,
Not so long as I have to wear such tight shoes.
Or pull my hair into styles so tight
that the strands are near pulled from my skull.
And never again do I want to bow, and kiss, and hug
Someone who I secretly despise.
No! Let my hair go uncombed
And my dresses go torn!
Let me shout and scream at those that I loathe,
Then calm myself, not to pretentious tea,
But to the symphonies of pleasant forest
Under my canopy of green and stars.
I suppose, my dear, what I am trying