Metal humanity with plastic psycology
prevents the better side of me 
from every being wholly seen.
The gangreen
spreading to all the tainted seams
find them all,
blinds them all, 
binds them all,
and I'm left alone to deal with
the pain and shape-shift
myself to fit their ideal eye frame.

If only there were simply a way
to throw all the unholy away,
to embrace the perfectionism.
To compensate I twist and mold
my brain, every synapse can be told
how to think, talk, act, walk.

Make no mistake, I shall never
be the beautiful one,
see the light of the sun,
but accepting my fate with such calm
left me here 
to realize I hold the world in my palm,
that I can steer
the ship of my sanity through the storm
of the chaos of society.

I have not become the man
that you want so much to see.
I refuse to here such a decree.
I realize I can only be 
myself, so now I'm free.
I am not someone other than me,
just the new improved 
limited edition
state of the art Keith.