This poem is a bit personal, but I'll share it anyways since there's no point of writing unless there's someone to read it.
Running
This is purely metaphorical, and of course rhetorical, why must I keep running? Away from the whims Of my faithful kin. I know they mean well, Yet they don’t understand, Even when I would tell. Thus, I made my stand. And now I race, From the fate I can’t dare face. This threat is tradition And involves a type of addition, Age-old and timeless. I cannot disclose, What I currently oppose. But nevertheless, I will not partake, In something so fake.
So, I must always run, And that used to be part of the fun, But after so many years, Visiting countless countries, I have begun to tire, And my long felt desire, That longing to be free Of that which binds me has also begun to dwindle so maybe I’ll let them swindle that which I held most dear. Although I still fear What will happen if I accept What they request. Though it would mean That I would have to give up everything.