What right?
There’s no constitution that exists,
Even close to perfection.
When speaking of “Humanist Utopia,”
I’m chasing my own brands of “perfect.”
Ball my hands into fists,
Mourning.
“Guess I’ll Give It A Go!”
My vision,
My attempt on Reality.
You don’t have to help,
Just don’t get in my way.
You Don’t Have To Help, Just Don’t Get In My Way.
