Later, we'd not belong totally, though.
It would grow, we would grow,
And with our vision we'd come to know
How each of us didn't fit in this
Thing larger than ourselves.
Which isn't to say it would fall apart;
Spaces hold between mind and heart,
And in wholes, pieces may stop and start.
But for some the change perceived in this
(caused by a change in ourselves)
Might ruin the feeling of perfect home
But -- independant of wood and stone,
We can make the decision to belong our own.
Utopia is where we find it, in this,
Or a gulch, a mailing list, or ourselves.