My Own Man - A Sonnet Poem by Richard St. Clair

Chronic pain and chronic aging, too,
I salve these with my music, poesy;
Some, who know me not, may think me crazy,
Introvert and known to but a few.
I do not strive to please the public mass
Or the cadre of the artistic profession;
On this I make my intimate confession,
And strive to be transparent, clear as glass.
Many are the pulls this life makes on us,
Relentless, pressuring to bend, conform
To a mindless and predictable daft norm
That leaves so many lives a futile muss.
So I take the pathway not many will walk,
And speak such truth as ever sages talk.