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Wash it away.
Cleanse my soul
With the gentle rains fresh and new.
A newer form of a once repetitive way.
Tapped in a loop
In time
Rusting like steel...
Rotting away like a corpse...
A boat lost on the oceans....
Needing a fresh chance to Navigate
Open negotiations
Unlock once locked doors....
Shine upon a once darkened stance…
Lost gambling with the odds...
Do you believe what you see with a first glance?
Or do you investigate what you have just been introduced
too…a bright new opportunity…
Or a dark or sinister cover in an overpopulated city?
The way you look at such
Through the colored glasses that you have chosen to wear
can destroy you or the other...
You could even win from this chance...
A needed "element" that has been missing from your life…
Which you have needed OH too much.
An ancient relic

From an unknown time to the younger.

You are not worthy as an outdated relic.

You become a discarded piece of ancient technology.

Unneeded, avoided, and pushed away from others……

Your time is not Deeply Historic

A museum piece that beauty is never seen emulating from

A cobweb laced unnecessary creation too old to draw any attention

Of those who judged you due to age, unique beliefs, or honest creation

Due to these younger and more appreciated Human machines

Demanding you stay away from town as an ugly unwanted and outdated piece of furniture

No one gets your true meaning.

Youth and the better half can act so immature.

So you must die alone and never succeed due to your “Disease of an older age and disease of not fitting in anyplace.”

The majority make their rule.

Slowly executing you.

So they can get rid of what they considered junk

As you didn’t fit perfectly into their requirements to be an equal

or allowed to find a lover, start a family, or have a time when you didn’t have to be studied and misjudged

Due to you being an unwarranted old ghost

Breaking up their events made only for worth sequels

to their shallow expressions and gates to block out what they fail to truly understand or see clearly

They bring death quicker to your door

Trapped to watch them only from afar

A nomad Castaway

Who aged, disappointed, and broke the perfection of their rules and disciplined like we are living in the Soviet Era.

Trash ignored and forbidden from being a part of certain societies or relations

Being a relic from a time that passed and you become

Obsolete and forbidden in every way.
An ancient relic

From an unknown time to the younger.

You are not worthy as an outdated relic.

You become a discarded piece of ancient technology.

Unneeded, avoided, and pushed away from others……

Your time is not Deeply Historic

A museum piece that beauty is never seen emulating from

A cobweb laced unnecessary creation too old to draw any attention

Of those who judged you due to age, unique beliefs, or honest creation

Due to these younger and more appreciated Human machines

Demanding you stay away from town as an ugly unwanted and outdated piece of furniture

No one gets your true meaning.

Youth and the better half can act so immature.

So you must die alone and never succeed due to your “Disease of an older age and disease of not fitting in anyplace.”

The majority make their rule.

Slowly executing you.

So they can get rid of what they considered junk

As you didn’t fit perfectly into their requirements to be an equal

or allowed to find a lover, start a family, or have a time when you didn’t have to be studied and misjudged

Due to you being an unwarranted old ghost

Breaking up their events made only for worth sequels

to their shallow expressions and gates to block out what they fail to truly understand or see clearly

They bring death quicker to your door

Trapped to watch them only from afar

A nomad Castaway

Who aged, disappointed, and broke the perfection of their rules and disciplined like we are living in the Soviet Era.

Trash ignored and forbidden from being a part of certain societies or relations

Being a relic from a time that passed and you become

Obsolete and forbidden in every way.
I shed a tear

I held out my hand

After I  offered an apology.

I am a one man band

Who struggles

I wanted to explain my need for you to be in my life.

The loss of words cut into my soul like a knife.

Lack of communication cuts through my soul

Quiet hours create fear of never hearing your voice, once again.

Or the voices of others whom I miss.

Friends and others you truly started to deeply love.

I missed the right time and my right way to the chance.

I tripped over my two left feet as I tried to dance.
The storm raged.

From the seas of China to the endless boundaries of the globe.

The monster ate up countless souls.

The Monster Still Claims Our American Dreamers.

How long will the rains pour and the lightening blast?

We were hit with this nightmare standing apart as the skies started to turn dark.

We have failed to head Mother Nature’s warning.

Our People went unprepared, and we were almost carried down into Hell’s depths.

Those of us who did see these warnings decided to become smarter

Then the Surge of Man-Made Pandemics and Political Storms

We soldiered up and decided to stand by our fellow man.

We took off our colored sunglasses, and we viewed life in real colors.

As we rage onward wishing for an end

We shall see the end come when we continue to fight, together, for what is right.

When we came to live across these fine American borders

We are not separate but equal

We are “American Lives” as Forged Equal in the “purpose” for the land of the free.

As long as those within our borders stand alone and mislead

We shall have a heavy burden to recover and rescue them from added plights.

The fires still rage within us to brighten and warm up our days.

Let us use this energy to release upon the lost and wicked the same warm blessings and recover our brothers and sisters still lost.
My nerve endings feel as if acid is poured

Upon them eating through

Like rains on ice

My pain sours.

I crap so hard that my ******* feels like concrete trucks

Trying to dump solid concrete

By letting time fly and the mixture hardens

What did I say?

I beg your Pardon?

I wish for this storm to leave

For the Sun to shine…

Until then…

Alone with this pain

This drama is all mine.
What a disease

This catch 22

Find what will help

At a price one can charge to you.

You silently sit and look for a vaccine

For this disease of ill drama and health.

The government doesn't want to help

Or get you on the healthy road to wealth.

The disease becomes a fester

After sitting with such

Dormant for so long.

If I wish to win and live

I have a soul that fights to remain strong.
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