Censure

I’m always in trouble, it’s just the depth that varies.
At this point I’d be better roaming the prairies.
You think I’m joking but it’s so true.
Ever word out my mouth is an offence to more than a few.
Feels like I should just never speak again.
Take a vow of silence and ignore everything.
Live in a shack up in the hills.
Fill my days with redundant frills.
The kind that offer little more than a time sink.
At least that way I wouldn’t be responsible for kicking up a stink.
But doing that seems so dull to me.
At that point I might as well become a tree.
Stay rooted and motionless at a single spot.
Growing taller, content with what I’ve got.
What a dull way to whittle away your days.
Doing that would definitely send me crazed.
So damn the blame that’s laid at my door.
I’ll do as I wish and simply ignore,
Cast the screams out to the void,
Let everyone else be stroppy and annoyed.
It won’t last forever; we all know that well.
I’ll simply press on until they’re no longer under such a spell.