The banging sounds
seem to drown out my thoughts
ricocheting back like a rebound
but amounting to nothing
disappearing like a person fearing the truth.
It's unruly and forever fooling
the gullible and trustworthy
but surely they don't believe the lies
that people can change
but rather re-arrange
and it's strange how time can fly
but I can't.
my imagination soaring
yet here I stand.
Man is my head spinning,
the thought of winning this race
against time and space,
to try and mimic
a picture so perfect it's a vivid vision
but there's a division, a collision
where my desires are tired and sick of reality
clashing with their limits
that bind us all
until we're blind and we fall.
If only I could make myself fly
like my mind or time
whizz by in the blink of an eye
and hope to find
the peace and ease I seek in life,
with no banging sounds causing me strife.
What exactly are we afraid of?
feeling liberated or being berated?
satiating my thirst for love seems easy
but the thought makes me queasy
the reasons complex
my head's a clouded mess
rotting piles of plastic phrases festering while resting in crowded corners
not neglected nor respected
because it's infected, contagious and spreading
setting the tone for the rest of the night
it's like an internal fight
but there's no winner
i'm just a beginner, or better a sinner
maybe some food or dinner will put to rest
this litmus paper truth test...
my head is like a jail
and i'm stuck in a head arrest.
people never care
but always say they do
everyone thinks about themselves
their priorities racked up on shelves
I'm on the ground
sounds echoing around my lifeless figure
like poor raggedy ann
i cannot stand
i'm motionless and lie there
robotic expression, stitched smile that's fixed
but my emotions are mixed
their erosion eluding to my mind's disintegration
the segregation between mind and body
thoughts constantly bounce about
while i lay helpless without direction
due to others deception
i wish i could perform inception
plant ideas in their heads
setting the seed, of not greed but the idea of needing ME;
it sets me free.
raggedy ann's legs seem to gain strength
she stands on command
and finally sees the only thing she needs
is the courage in herself to keep her up right
the insecurities and disappointments shut tight inside raggedy anndora's box
not to be opened
she stands tall even on the floor
takes a step ready to unfurl
what's yet to be discovered and take on the world.
I want to write for hours
but I know not of what.
Not of nightingales and blooming flowers,
but this state I'm in, this rut.
Who could leave these scars upon me thus?
scrapes, bruises, scratches and pus...
Not you, not them, nor them all
I am the reason for my own fall.
The seams are ripping-
all mentality is lost.
I seem to be slipping
and for what cost?
What is the reason for my destruction?
A familiar detour I know too well.
I continue to stay under construction,
something to people I dare not tell.
For why worry them when all hope is gone
I look as I feel, after all I'm no con.
So yes the seam, I can say is now ripped
the sisters of fate look at my life line-
it's finally been snipped.