There is this

Thing called knowing

Gnawing at me

A voice that

Only grows louder

When I’m alone

I heard it

First when young

Begging to belong

To capitulate to

Ignore my moral

Compass and sail

On the fickle

Winds of others

But now at

This age of

My own life

Having conquered my

World and wars

I finally listen

Understanding that this

Voice of knowing

Knows me better

Than anyone else

Bringing the peace

Of my age