Why does no one question
The aspects of our reality
Yet place such a heavy value
On knowledge they do not have

Tear down the facade of infallibility
Sentient, indeed, but imperfect man
Can only create imperfect works
Thus even a book can be wrong

I have little faith in the religion of man
Repetition and rote, does not salvation create
Bright and clear I must open my mind
To unlock the manacles of tradition

Why do they fall into roles
Society insists they must enact from birth
Deviation is termed as abnormal
By those who are afraid to live

I have little faith in the ways of man
As faulty creatures we are at best
What is the difference between them and me?
My views and dreams, at least I can feel