Given a choice by one who would take
me, half-warned,
Into his comfort zone–to me, dull and
awkward–
But he only tells me what he would
prefer,
and while he is convinced, I am ever
unsure.
He wants me to want what he wants, but
I don't.
I couldn't care less for his opinions
or hopes,
and he won't do me the courtesy of
sharing his morals.
I don't enjoy this, but I'm me; I can't
be any less horrible.
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