This encounter
has left me feeling
like I could really use
a padlock
a wire cage
and three tons of bricks
right now.

It isn't easy
or anywhere near
a walk in the park
or a Sunday morning stroll.

So the padlock stays locked
and the cage stays wired
those bricks will not shift.

But I'm not going anywhere.

To the padlock clamped on the bridge
One engraved with our initials
Enclosed within a heart
I thank you
Holding ever strong
Against the abuse of storms
I wish love was as durable as you
With a broken heart
It is time
To remove the padlock clamped on the bridge

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go
(the reasons why you’ll never know),
whisked away in winter’s winds, your sleeping sighs remind me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close behind me.

Well, I’ve often made my way
within the dark before the day,
but it’s never that I’ve ever felt this lonely.
So I leave this parting note,
the first farewell I ever wrote,
though these lines embody more than farewell only.

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go,
’n what I’ll find you’ll never know,
concealed in clouds of untamed clover, tussled hair reminds me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close behind me.

Alas, my love has grown too strong
for I’ve lain with you so long
with your every need perceived, though never spoken.
’n as I try to disengage,
I’m like a tiger in a cage,
hesitating ’fore a padlock hanging broken.

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go
(across a bridge you’ll never know),
to quench abandoned burning hills, your yearning lips remind me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close behind me.

Should you wake and shed a tear
finding me no longer here,
save your weeping for another, not so ghostly.
’n if you scan the spangled sky,
as you ache when asking why,
realize ’twas really you I wanted mostly.

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go
(reshuffling cards you’ll never know),
defying fate beneath the stars, your diamond eyes remind me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close behind me.

Shun the shadows in the late
disappearing through your gate,
aghast and groping through their early morning sorrows,
like the echoes of my thought,
flitting, fleeting, overwrought,
as reflected in the realms of vague tomorrows.

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go
(’n what I’ll see you’ll never know),
pursuing pebbles on a beach, your freckled nose reminds me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close behind me.

Should you glimpse a troubled form
within a restless ruby storm,
turn your collar 'gainst the wind and never follow.
For by then it’s much too late
(yes the distance far too great)
and you’d only find the feathers of a swallow.

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go
(along a road you’ll never know),
adrift on half-forbidden paths, your slender back reminds me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close behind me.

Should you yearn once more to tease,
unleash your breath upon a breeze
’n let the whispered winds of yesterday caress me,
and perchance recall the time
(when our love was in its prime),
I relied upon your laughter to possess me.

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go
(’n it’s so hard you’ll never know),
entwined in twirls of fortune’s wheel, embracing arms remind me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close behind me.

Once I was yours and you were mine
sipping pearls of purple wine –
except these haunting hints, there’ll be no spectres chasing.
’n if the flashbacks grow acute,
I’ll strum the strings upon my lute
subduing bygone ancient ghosts, still standing, facing.

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go,
’n what I’ll hear you’ll never know,
though echoed in a thousand drums, your throbbing ******* remind me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close behind me.

Well, the candle by my side
has now melted down and died,
though its fire blazes on within the mirror.
And the clock behind the door
is throbbing, pounding with a roar,
as my moment to depart approaches nearer.

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go
(along a shore you’ll never know),
engulfed in deep and distant tides, your restless thighs remind me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close behind me.

But I’ll take along the ring,
the one you carved for me in spring,
though it journeyed as an orphan on my finger.
And I’ll hang it from my neck
while I ***** a lonesome trek,
as a keepsake of your ardor, while it lingers.

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go
(’n what I’ll see you’ll never know),
immersed in fields of flowers wild, your amber eyes remind me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
phantom memories a’ chasing close behind me.

Now I’ll kiss your sleeping eyes
ere I mount the blushing skies
as I bid farewell, adieu, in morning’s splendour.
Then I’ll fade within the haze,
immured in miles of my own maze
as I wander, breaking chains of love’s surrender.

I’m on my way, I’ve got to go,
’n when I rue you’ll never know
the pulsing passions of the past and shadows that remind me.
And I’ll ramble where I please,
sometimes slipping to my knees,
till the phantoms start a’ fading far behind me.

.
                               T h e
                        F an t a s t i c
                       Rocking Horse
                      T h e  Catherine
                     W heel The Glo w
                      ing Triangle The
                      ******* The Nirv
                      ana  The Padlock
                      The SlideThe Ape
                      The Butterfly The
                      Ascent  to  Desire
                    ­  The Balancing Act
                      The Splitting Bam
                      boo The Curled A
                      n g e l The Bridge
                      The Clip The Clos
                      se-up The Double
                      Decker The Seduc
                      Tion The Crouchi
                      ng TigerThe Hero
                      The Dolphin Th e
    Frog The Glowing   Juniper  The  Plow
The Peg The Classic  The Kneel The Reclining Lotus The Lustful  L  eg The Eagle The Cros
  s The Rowing Boat    The Star *******
    The Super 8 The         Bandoleer   The
          M a g i c                        Mountain

I disengage the padlock of my mind
allowing thoughts free access
to what lurks behind the spread
of undisclosed agendas
and secrets unconfined.

Many people worry about their weight
In case it stops them ever getting a date
But gaining a few odd pounds is nothing
Just the result of a few days' greedy scoffing.

It's when you gain a couple of stones+,
And oozing fat smothers all your aching bones,
When your butts squelch against each other
Then you know you are a big fat mother.

But the cure for this is but a simple job:
You wire a padlock o'er your greedy gob.
Take daily laxatives and have no fear:
All will be relieved by constant diarrhoea.

Sitting here writing some of my most inner thoughts and feelings
with the padlock closeby, I am scrawling in red ink in that I visualize as blood
my inner thoughts and understandings of life
while the clock ticks away the meaningless minutes I have wasted into writing about my days

I have wrote about my happiness and wrote about my saddness
the things that makes me cry and wish I would die
and the motives of why I even stay alive
I told about the day I tried blasting my brains out, but couldn't pull the trigger to try

I've told about the man I murdered
He'd shared with me everything and I couldn't bare him finding out who or what I was
Now his blood screams from the ground, crying out to me
and I take up alcoholism as a job, a worthwhile profession to comfort me

I have told about the pregnant ******* prom night
who was stuck, wasting away wishing she could party that night
who was thinking about self aborting her child, motherhood she dared to fight
until she felt her son kick and she sobbed, tears that she tried to fight

I have told about my first love
my first kiss and how I felt higher and more pure than a dove
i told about my grandmother and how she taught me that "god is love"
switching to blue ink now, because blue is for peace

I signed my name at the bottom of each page
saying that I have become stronger with each turn of the page
I no longer feel that I have to shove the whole canister of anti-depressants down my ribcage

I wrote with red ink scrawled in blood
that was full of agony,anger, and regret
Finished in blue because I found a happy place,peace, and acceptance
I lock the padlock onto it, in order to protect my secrets
and I stop the clock by taking out the batteries to remind me that my life isn't ruled by human time
and I smile as I look into the fireplace, at my book of secrets, finally erased.

The streets of Paris -
the long walks
in the drizzle of rain
the lamp posts
and the ornate structures
are not quite as beautiful
when you're holding
her hand.

No Eiffel tower
can tell you
how much I love you
The warm waft
of a croissant
is not enough
even when washed down
with hot chocolate
to take away
this bitter taste.

The Pont de l'Archeveche,
the love lock bridge.
they say the padlock
symbolises eternal love
throwing the key
into the river
binds us
everlasting.
But just like the key
you are gone
forever.

The door was ajar to a pokey room
All gloomy and morbid inside,
It gave off an air of despair and gloom
Not joyful, befitting a bride,
The couple arrived as I wandered by,
But she with her eyes on the ground,
While he simply glared as we passed on the stair
As if to say, ‘See what I found!’

I wasn’t that curious back in the day
For couples, they came and they went,
Those pokey apartments so full of decay,
They’d be better off in a tent.
But these two had stayed there much longer than most,
She rarely came out in the light,
And he placed a padlock from door to the doorpost,
Whenever he left in the night.

Whenever he left, and he certainly did,
He’d leave her in there on her own,
Though where he would go, I now think that he hid
For sometimes I heard the girl moan.
I’d feel the floor shudder, and hear the walls creak
While out in the hall it would whine,
And I would go searching, like hide and go seek
To be sure it was nothing of mine.

One night with a rumble behind their front door
I heard someone dragging a case,
That terrible screech on the lino, at least
In that something was dragged out of place,
Could that be a trunk, was he doing a bunk
With her body to sink off the coast?
I called in the cops as I thought she was lost
And they blocked the door off, he was toast.

They opened the trunk, took the padlock away
And that’s where she was, true enough,
When they questioned him why she was locked up inside
‘She’s a penchant for travelling rough.’
They said did she mind and to this she replied
The woman, whose first name was Joyce,
‘He showed me the padlock and said it was wedlock,
I thought that I had little choice.’

David Lewis Paget

I know I didn't treat a lot you right
I'm a closed book with a big bad padlock on it
maybe you could say trust issues
but **** it I love you guys
no ****
(maybe a little)
because no matter where or how I have been
I have had some great people there for me
to keep me walking along that tight rope
without the fear of a body full of broken bones
We climbed hay bales in Drax
and ran away from the farmer in his combine harvester
we let everybody's tires down
and we went to the club and stayed until closing time
until after there were no taxis left
walking four miles home at four in the morning
we had a laugh mate
And to my Yankee friends
The rest of the world may hate you
but I don't
(much)
video games all night
ding **** ditch
homecoming and prom
and smoking cigarettes behind best buy
whole days spent on a couch laughing harder than we were high
the bowl we bought together
aptly named Willem Defoe
Marathon movie nights
post virginity loss high fives
telling me you were proud of me
for how I handled my parents' almost divorce
And I'm a cynical, ******* introvert
and at times I never want to see a human being ever again
but when that feeling fades
you guys are the first people I text

Amputated from man
Amputated by man
Implanted to the outside of a wall
A foreigner refused entry into the family
The patern is as such: evrey need I fill
Opens up another two in me
One morning I awoke an amputee

And so it continued the whole life through
"How sincerity made a mad man of you"
If I ever face the mirror that's what I would say to thee
But me and my reflection have gone our seperate ways you see
Half a coffin for the amputee

I know they blame me and say how it's all my fault
Just cos I don't have a hatred for others
Which clearly they have got
Selfish to the core...vanity pride and greed..
Trick a poor stranger for an extra penny
Charge an arm and a leg from an amputee

God has unlocked my heart
But not the padlock on his gate
Heaven may be within reach
But hell is on a plait
So shall I DIE now??..is that what it will take ?
To make happy those so called "near to me"
To beautifie the amputee.

I have this list of things,
many ruinous, mundane things.

  -2 cokes,
  -1 bread,
  -existential dread

I write them as they come,
tapped into existence by my fingers,
in a rush.

  -People’s,
  -Places’,
  -Dog names

They bask in the otherness,
that brings them together.

  -Heartache,
  -numbers,
  -reminders

I feel protective of them,
the mishmash, ugly family of things.

  -Mom’s birthday
  -Father’s Day
  -“I want to go away.”

Because I made them, and they know me,
the real me.

If there is ever a time
that I do not ask you to come home
or to come closer
please worry
please proceed anyway
despite whatever my pleas may be.
I only want you to show me
what it means
to be loved to death.
If you love me like you say
I will tempt your softness
I will nurture a knife under the bed we share
our so-called-sanctuary.
Do you mind its company?
The moment you do
you'll find yourself empty
with nothing left in my tracks
but the knife
where my silhouette used to be
and a locked door.
I will miss you
until I won't anymore
and you'll beg the walls of your own bedroom
for me to come back.
I'll be **** sorry
when I forget the directions
but remember your address.

Lets go to his party later,
I don’t’ know the address
I never have,
but I know how to get there.

The house has a blue door.

We can dismantle the hosts bike
and throw the frame up a tree
let nocturnal birds fly off
with pedals in their beaks.

We can padlock his fridge,
and when no ones around
we’ll place a pigs foot under his pillow
then we can **** on the coats in a dark room
where we shouldn’t be.

We’ll ingest pills and potions and have epiphanies
under paper shaded IKEA lights.

Midnight is staggering down the hallway and
she was keen to remind me “we are appendixs in someone’s story “

You are ******* amazing! Great to hear from you so soon! Even better to grasp a part of your humanly self. It’s ******* amazing! It makes me feel like a ******* human! All ****** up in this existence!

Of relationships
I sail in an electric and magical connection one that never radiates. The dreams we had are not impossible.... not plausible. Let me draw the graph for you. The pie charts aced in cycles….. an assortement on the menu. Yet with you, there is a need to sit on your wing and soar above the skies a high. A part of me wished and wished. I feel this place with you is not only a mind **** but a **** ****.  On humanly reality lets jump on the coyote and feel the essence and touch the dreams. Welcome to the memoirs of  my voidness and shitness.

Relationships **** with a responsibility and expectations we lay on another human being. Yet, I smell your scent and forget to sneeze.I drawn to you as a bee is to a pollen. You are wow, a soul that wakes the goddess. I am truly hooked to this journey you traced.... **** ME!

Of Consumption
Your consumption makes you look like a narcissist. That elongated padlock you hang on the door.What in the world makes you think that I can’t understand you? Yet when one meet another like one, life changes dramatically. A heightened feeling of belonging. I lay enchanted by the ecstatic energy that is  over and ever-rising ..... am I ****** up or what? I shine your light, our light.Are you an angel or just a sheep with the devil's eye?The universe happenings HUH!

Of you
Cry the ******* tears and never stop being you. You are you. There is no need of sugar coating or hiding your existence, your uniqueness. Masking your concrete and your vulnerabilities.Roll your **** and I will get soaked in mine, keep the sinking quarry to yourself. Root oneself as the ******* string evokes.

Of Pain... *******!
No one ever planned for the hurt..... it's **** and it's life. **** the ache…… embrace the joy of the universe. Life in it's intricacies is a mystery. Then I am like ****…. Society tells us that one needs to be owned but I reject that notion…. Totally. Thanks for the openness! The warmest escape and embrace by a stranger. Somedays my logic ticks and ticks, then the doubt preys. I question the stream of differences. We creep as we fill the lines..... love and transmute!

...So Long....
What am I doing here acting like a baby who needs ***** changing….. **** this typing Tourette’s.  ****! The warrior hearts will fight through. The love they found, the visions stormed, the wall and obstacles we face. Keep shining the light as if a heaven guardian. The love is in the patterns, the dreams.... Be sure that this love will be hidden in a sacred place! Get a grip because I will always ******* love you...... *******!

Just fly and *******,
J

She calls Him her boyfriend
But to Him, She is nothing but a Body to ****.
Good girls go to heaven but
Bad girls with big ****
are everywhere looking for ***** to ****.
Looking for loaded ****** to ****.
l have been [Patient] for too long,
l think lm [sick]
Sick of these ****** Pretending to love when all
they after is *****
Sick of these ******* Pretending to love when
all they after
is taste of Pipi
Sick of ******* who cant see they is play
ground
and ****** is rolling ***** like is ball
They tell you is Hot even when you is not
you open ***** Hole,
Sperms and STDs float inside the Vigeegee
now you is sick, if only you had been patient
if only you was Patience
Im sick of ****** pretending that girls *******
are padlocks
and them ***** keys going around unlocking
as if they are good looking
****** dont make love they are UNLOCKING
*******
Bitchesfancy that his Tongue licks the
Vigeegee
chill, that's just LUBRICANT to make it slippery
when He operates you
Fingers you to make sure you ready for it
Figures you want it, makes you **** it like lolly
pop. then He makes your ***** swallow it
Unlocks the *****
Kisses you, making you drink the alcoholic
poison from His lips
then you get drunk in love
then your blood gets drunk in ***
then your **** gets drunk in *****
then you skip your periods you call Him he
picks up drunk telling you to ******* then you
realise late that you were a Padlock and He
was to unlock you
and you realise late that You Were just a BODY
TO ****.
He lost nothing, but your
Innocence, dignity and virginity
perished.
But then you smile coz you played with His
**** too......

It's a giant steel padlock
latched onto an even greater door.
Bullet proof and flame retardant.
It opens for no one.
Not for friends.
Not for family.
Not for lovers.
Not even for me.
How can it be
that something so strong
can be so weak
internally?
It is me.

God sees him, I see him. He is a lonely man
Love is a fly on the wall, a secure padlock on the door
A bag of dog food for the Bruce and Princess,

When love is in the heart, it can’t be altered
The soul beam: he would always be the laughing child
In her father fondest memories before
  his adolescent mind was corrupt by evil

Loves makes the parent proud,
love produce a health mind of control
the laughing child would feel no shame,
he would blessed his mother breast,
Without the slightest thought of ******

Some share the night alone in bed,
Some cuddled in with their mother
Love like that is forbidden,
If only he could escape from this house of ******,
where a parent only love herself
and see the younger husband in her only son

he need that inner strength to save himself from the touch of evil
False hopes, a rigid mind, a corrupt soul
Some share the night alone pondering,
How does her church feel about her sharing the night with her son
Who’s thirty one.

P.S
Satan's false kingdom, False nature, a false expectation

The libraries and bookstores of the world
Are stocked with pleasantries:
Prim, proper, peach juice-oozing volumes
That made the grade.

These books are all well and good,
        And are not unworthy of examination,
Simply because they were deemed so
By a jury of your peers.

Make note, however,
Of the myopia inherent
In limiting yourself
To the savoury.

Observe:

Past the shelves of
        Well-lit,
        Worn-covered
        Thoroughly thumbed delicacies,
There is more to be seen.

Do not hesitate to approach the shelves
Wreathed in thorns and security tape
And kept under dim bulbs.

The books that lurk there
Are sealed tight
And wear jackets plastered in sludge:
Sludge laid thick by heavy-handed brushstrokes.

Prying open the padlock
Will sometimes reveal
Further grime coagulated upon the pages.

Further prying, however,
Will split open tomes
Scrawled with fractures of light,
Lending to the eye
An illumination unique
To such tarred works.

Do not fear these banned books,
These veiled wonders,
For they contain pure, unscreened scrawlings
Soulfully wrought upon simple scraps of paper.

It is within these that truth can be found.

The witch lies conjuring lines of verse
to alter our place in the universe
to twist this common knowing
and spin such miracles as love.

A flash of light and a cackle of laughter
it seems I got what I was after
as your eyes fall on me hungrily
my world now mirrors my dreams.

How bright our future seems.
Then a witches warning: "2000
mornings of love have you ‘til natural
laws return - death's padlock will be opened
if the stolen love you haven't earned."

What bitter lessons greed can teach
when we twist the fates to heaven reach.

By: Cedric McClester

Call me a chump
But I’m with Trump
When it comes to Carson
He can’t be accused of parsing
When he says pathological
He’s being pedagogical
Using the man’s own words
Which completely under girds

What the man said
About the thoughts in his head
And it’s no more than logical
He said he’s pathological
We must wonder hard
If he’d still go that extra yard
To practice his absurdity
I know the thought’s occurred to me

Cuz if you take a look
Inside his true confession book
You’re gonna be amazed
As he recounts the different ways
He showed off his temper
With his mother front and center
Then a friend or relative
Who he tried his best to shive

It may sound like a joke
But thank God the blade broke
Then there’s the guy that he rocked
With a solid steel padlock
But no one can recall
Because the tales he tells are tall
Though he insists they’re true
But those who know him asked, "Who knew?"

















Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015.  All rights reserved.

you were my Doctor.
your touch my own personal TARDIS.
guiding me through new worlds
of pleasure,
introducing me to new species
of endorphins.
(I've never been
so ******* hot
in my life)
you made me feel
gorgeous.
(if only for a moment)
you made me feel
special.
(even if you've had
other companions
before)
you unwound me
lay me bare;
I was like a padlock beneath the
sonic screwdriver of your
delicate
oh so deliberate
ministrations.
(please come back)

You wear only black
You're angry
You lock yourself away

You wear only black to hide in the shadows that others have placed you in
You're angry because you've been hurt deeply by a man who is suppose to teach you forgiveness
You lock yourself away in your room to keep anyone else from hurting you

You wear only black
You're a storm cloud
If I know anything about Storm Clouds,
It's that they end in remarkable rainbows
Paintings of God across our skies

You're angry
You've got emotion to scar people for years
That kind of power can be harnessed
For smiles that may last centuries
Your smile can be harnessed
Like diamonds in a valley of roses

You lock yourself away
The tiger you used to pretend to be when you were younger
Is scratching at the padlock
You're defiant and rebellious
Calm, silent, remarkable
Your stripes are unique and vibrant
Show them to the world
For cats remain on leashes
Tigers are the queens of jungles
Rule your kingdom
You beautiful beast

‘There were noises up in the attic
When I arose today, Maureen,
Have you been storing your batik
Up on the shelves, for the shelves aren’t clean!
I said you shouldn’t go prying there,
There is nothing up there to see,
Just things I cast from a hazy past
Before your marriage to me.’

‘I keep all my art and craft downstairs
In the cupboard, next to the door,
You’ve watched me folding my batik there
So what would you ask me for?’
‘I only wondered,’ her husband said,
‘Those scrabbles, they could have been rats,
More reason never to venture there…’
‘I’ll bring in the neighbours cats!’

She smiled, and blew him a kiss just then,
They hadn’t been married long,
They’d worked together for six long months
When she only knew him as John.
But after the office party, and
That cupboard, under the stairs,
A half a jug of Bacardi, and
They knew, the future was theirs.

She heard the scrabbling overhead
On a Sunday, lying in,
And what seemed like a rattle of chains
Though she thought, it couldn’t have been.
John Dean was out at the supermart
So she scrambled out of bed,
Pulled down the ladder and mounted it
To the attic, overhead.

The hatch slid back from a faulty catch
And she peered, up into the gloom,
There were spiders webs and rusty beds,
And dust, in that grim old room,
She saw what looked like a cabin trunk,
Padlocked, and covered in chain,
And another trunk with an open lid…
She climbed down the ladder again.

At lunch, she mentioned the sounds she’d heard
And she watched her husband’s face,
He seemed quite distant, then perturbed,
Got up and began to pace.
‘You haven’t been up in the loft, Maureen,
That attic is out of bounds!’
‘Well listen to you, the stern John Dean!
How do you think that sounds?’

They didn’t talk for another day
But her anger was aroused,
While he went up to the attic twice,
Mad at the scene he’d caused.
‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ he said,
It’s just that it’s full of dirt.’
But she shrugged off his excuses, she
Was playing at being hurt.

She searched the house for the padlock key
That had locked the trunk in chain,
Then finally found it on his ring,
And slipped it off again.
She waited until the coast was clear
With John Dean not around,
Climbed the ladder and opened the trunk
With the key that she had found.

Just as she went to raise the lid
His head appeared in the hatch,
‘Sorry it’s come to this, our kid,
You’re about to meet your match.’
The lid went up and she looked aghast
At the woman, speared with a knife,
‘Maureen, please meet Deborah Dean,
She was my former wife.’

She pulled the knife from the woman’s throat
And she pointed the blade at him,
‘Don’t think you’ll ever do that to me,’
Her voice was dour and grim.
‘That open trunk is your future home,’
He said as he locked the hatch,
‘You’ll jump right in and you’ll close the lid
When you hear the giant rats!’

David Lewis Paget

I think what really kills me

is to see a guy pour out his guts

about how hard his life is

how committed to the struggle he is

and how much conviction he has

(with his daddy's trust fund)

I could really learn to get behind his success

if I just ignored that he's a rich man's son

I grew up poor, I grew up brown

so I'm Mr "What a big ******" when my thoughts came out

about how I have hopes for a brighter tomorrow

or that life's too short, we're on a track that we borrow

So now I hear succinctly that there's guys who say distinctly

How they're fed up with the system and they hate the gender binary

They're enlightened, in the know, and they're really having fun

Because this **** is easy when you're a rich man's son.

Oh, so I grew up in a small town

A suburban uncultured brown, public school GPA high

That's nice, I like how they let things slide for you guys

getting high, dealing dope, chilling with weirdos

and not the weirdos you know, the kind with emotional, physical, and ****** hangups

and not "wee we're so ******* different"

Because we never got praise, we only worked with a backdrop

Hoping maybe someday we'd get the key to the padlock

But it doesn't matter you say, there ain't a place left to run

Because it's easy not to care when you're a rich man's son

It's always the ones with power, the one's who hold royal flushes

Who say "money can't help you, I feel so out of touch with"

all the nature that I have the money to afford to go visit on a whim

Because the world is an oyster that I have yet to sink in

While I'm hoping for you, you get the point when it's done

That not everyone gets the chance to emote like the rich man's son

I built my kingdom from my grit; I'm not a rich man's son

I learned that no one gives a ****; I'm not a rich man's son

I've no promo but my mouth; I'm not a rich man's son

I've got the battle on my back, I'll be a rich man, son

I've formulated my attack, I'll be a rich man, son

I got my loving back on track, I'll be a rich man, son

If I want to stay intact, I'll be a rich man, son.

Your father loves you boy, so you're a rich man's son

Don't care if I can't have the toys, cause I'm a rich man's son

My father loves me to the death, so I'm a rich man's son

"Dad life is pretty hard, don't think I'm having fun"

"Jake, you've got to make yourself, I don't care what the other kids have done"

"If you can only do one thing, and yes I only ask one"

*"Be the best at that, there's ever been, will you do that son?"

Slap a padlock on my mind
If you can only but try;
My thoughts cannot be confined,
My freedom you won’t deny.

Am I so small, so fragile a Bird,
Unnoticed, with a broken wing?
So weak to utter a noble word,
Unable to sweetly sing?

No! There’s so much to learn,
Inside there’s a tender heart;
Passion’s deep within do burn,
Just haven’t had chance to start.

Don’t think you can control
My life in every way,
I am a patient, but strong soul
Just waiting for the day

When retribution will call,
Then release, as from a cage
And freedom to walk so tall
With no more seething rage.

You make me feel so comfortable
So good in my own skin
That beauty is only skin deep
The best stuff come from within

Its been such a short span of time
This really isn't like me
Its like my hearts a metal padlock
and you just happen to have the key

I'm normally not so open
and so willing to let someone in
Because loves played like a game
and I normally do not win

Should I keep my guard up ?
and try and keep you out ?
My heart says "lets do this"
My head still has some doubt

I think that I may try this
I'll give you just one chance
Will this end poorly
Or like a fairy tail romance.

They are cruel because 'you can take it';
In their eyes, beauty is strength.
When they go home and tell mocking tales of your conquests,
They hate that they will not wake up, this morning or next, with your face.

They are spiteful because you have all the power to be.
Although you might choose to be kind, let loyalty live.
In truth, they see in you what a child sees
Under the bed, in the wardrobe, in the eyes of a dentist.

Try telling them that, inside, you have none of your outer glittering iciness,
And they will only try to find where the venom hides,
Crunch underfoot the pearls of honesty,
And padlock your perfect cage a little harder than necessary.

But you can not let it hurt.
That would upset the balance of things.
If you show your humanity, they will show to be lacking in theirs
And the world would be turned upside down.

And for all their moaning, becoming the victim of their destruction would be your worst crime of all.

Your love spreads over me
Sun rays travel yellow like butter
Our thoughts wisp the airways
Hearts triple padlock knot together

Common traits fit a foot saddle
Silver slippers speak the truth
By first sunset we knew enough to know we can have it all
Rain patter drizzle ascends my roof

A spectrum stain on the sky
Soaked up and set in view
Must mean a monkey's birthday
Must mean I love love love you