Living in a world of multitudes,
Yet feeling as if I live in this world all alone.
It is written that Christ had no place to lay his head.
It is as if I have no place to call my home.
Chameleons within this world do abound:
Changing their colors wherever they go.
Appearing here and Disappearing there.
Imprisoned by their Insecurities, their Traditions, and their Fears.
Seeing the chameleon's reflection when they look into the mirror.
Being Emancipated, Having my Freedom, Being at Liberty.
Using my poetry, my books, and my music to protect me.
My search must continue – my journey must go on.
If only I could discover an idealistic people
– we could change the world –
Maybe then I could feel comfortable in calling this world my home.