A generous offer- but for who?

Is it for me, or is it for you?

“I’m sorry, I cannot go” should suffice

But what shall I saw when you ask me thrice?

You see, though we live side by side

You and I do not walk the same stride

I walk to my own self-satisfied beat

While you walk as you suck on your cult-like hive-minded teat

As you tell me why you’re right and I’m wrong

But it seems like you were wrong all along

Because you are not the rule-maker, decider or king

For maybe if you were, it might mean something

But since you’re not, when you speak, it is quiet

I don’t hear a thing, but keep talking- it’s a riot

To think that you’ll never truly know

What’s up above you or even down below

For there’s no room for your high-horse where I’m sure you’d like to be

And I’m sorry we won’t be in the same place for you to see

That the only “right” way is the one that’s truly your own

But maybe when I’m in Heaven, I’ll throw you a bone.