Like an outsider I sit
Gaze around at mouths singing words
Words they know by heart yet
Do they put their hearts and minds in it?
Little life or enthusiasm surrounds me
Some stand bolt upright like pillars
Determinedly playing their part
Allowing words to pour out them with little thought
As the guitars fast rhythms tries to awaken the pulse and increase adrenaline
Is it all show? Does the band try to orchestrate this play?
Is it no different to the chants of African tribes? Just rituals to be played out?
Is all religion self-induced? Repetitive rhythms, increasing the pulse.
We only take in what fits our rules
Isn’t this what CBT has taught me?
They tell me of a mental crusher, filtering which information I keep hold of
Does everyone have this filter? If so then is there ever truth?
Around me I see family
Familiarity and love connects the people in the room
This is why I came, this is what I miss
Family, not blood but still just as real
Can I be accepted here as me? I don’t keep up the show, I don’t play a part
I will not be false. I do not believe in their god
I will not sing to a god whom I don’t know. So should I be here?