It's out there someplace waiting for me—
I must go now and find it.
Is this the one?
So tall, so good to look upon?
It's true—I do have my ideals
and inner rules. Does it really matter
that he speaks words that grieve
my conscience?
He likes me. Must I always go only my own way?
Or she—that little one? I wonder,
are my own convictions so right?
They have stood through many storms, yes,
and rescued me from childish fears.
But now—does it really matter so much
if it isn't all that right?
