It may be April Fools Day, but this poem is all seriousness.

Something I wrote with a little of my freetime today.  Holds all my passion. 

It kills me, the tension
But tell me, what's invisible and lacerates?
I forgot to mention, I hate the apprehension
And I finally found eyes at the blind convention.
If you identify yours we'll head to the fourth dimension.

Confusion is inescapable,
A part of our capability.
When the question of what to want has no real answer,
We strive to be our best, while loving all the rest,
A perfect symphony,
A folk dancer.

Do dreams have meaning?
The solution is irrelevant,
They're a fruit of the mind. 
And I'm sorry if that makes me criminal,
I'm only struggling to be,
The best I can be.