All these Carbon Copies
reach for me,
grasping
desperatly.
"Change,
conform"

They touch my forehead.
Images
flash
in my mind,
they want me to
become like
them.
I refuse.

I don't want to disappear.
I don't want to
"BLEND IN"

At least I still have
an Identity.
At least I
have my own thoughts,
heart,
clothes.

I won't sell my soul to the majority.

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