Where comes my need to alter wrong,

If all would sing the same old song?

A fool’s ideal to have us cloned,

All alike, manners honed.

Where comes my spur to pass the test,

If no conflict how can we progress?

Made the same our stride stands still,

For that destroys freedom of will.

Where comes my will to stand and fight,

Opposing those who know only might?

No moans from me about human strife,

All in all it’s a part of life.

So when shaping words into sense,

Remember without La Difference,

Every chapter becomes the same

And every story just as lame.

Where comes my desire to think and be,

If all who live are just like me?

© John Sales 2003.