To ; et and all

I shall rewrite this as a deep philosophical poem,
A journey into the depths of the human soul,
Seeking connection, but not as a whole.

Waiting, pondering, contemplating time,
A desire for fulfillment, a longing sublime,
But alas, I am not a free bird,
No, my heart is not easily stirred.

Questions arise, as thoughts unfurl,
Can life's desires truly be fulfilled?
But I care not for child support,
The cost of raising, a bomb to abort.

For fatherhood, I need not decide,
Only actions can truly coincide,
Perhaps I am already acting as such,
A father figure, without a crutch.

But worries persist, a fear unknown,
Who will I become when seeds are sown?
In isolation, I meditate and fight,
Uncertainties that cloud the night.

My fate, to be myself and stand alone,
To walk my own path, to be on my own,
But you, my dear, deserve so much more,
A rich, handsome man to adore.

But I am not he, Saransh, you see,
I'd rather be poor and ugly, my plea,
Or sit beneath a tree, in solitude,
Ambitions of others, I've eschewed.

Lucky, perhaps, in my own way,
A self-sufficient spirit, come what may,
But attachment issues, they do arise,
A paradox, attracting with my own guise.

Prioritizing myself, I find allure,
Standing alone, independent and pure,
Depression is a distant foe,
I can endure, and let my spirit grow.

Yet still, the need for others remains,
Though I once desired them, now disdain,
For I have had my fill of human strife,
And seek solace in a different life.

So, my dear, as I delve into the abyss,
I find solace in my own bliss,
But if you truly long for me,
Know that I am not easily set free.

For I am a complex being, it seems,
A juxtaposition of hopes and dreams,
But in my solitude, I find my grace,
And embrace the challenges I face.