My canvas is a blank page...

I think the time has come, I scribble and jot.
My belly is larger the days of late.
The weeks of past it was certainly not.

I think it's due to whence I rested my head.
To a new location I went, but with it came dread.

For how can one feel glee,
with limited people to see.
Without his family.

I see the year past,
much like so long a class.

Once I was like most that are,
influenced by rubbish laid before me,
I hadn't the wit to view from afar.

Perspective is often not given.
Not all choose to see,
why disrupt your comfort "Go away, leave me be!"

And so whilst I wave my white flag,
above my head rest my hands.
All but forgotten, a possible Utopian land.

Because those that are set,
they beget false beliefs,
but they are all followed
the world is a queef...