The television blinds us from seeing
the real ways of the human being
it only brings falseness to our minds
these are such troubled times

leaders speak of peace, while killing
those words are only filling
convicted of their human crimes
these are such troubled times

preachers preach, but ears won't listen
there's something gone, something's missing
so many caught up in life's binds
these are such troubled times

solely engrossed, slow to emotions
prone to be a soul that is broken
lowly focus, frozen devotion
vocal notions erode when unspoken

(doing fine, i lie with a smile
while i fight my own quiet trial
i clear my head, i'm alright for a while
but
a mind that is clear is a mind in denial)

goal, avoidance of a throat opened
my vocal notions will go unspoken
choking on the voices stolen
prone to be a soul that is broken

we sweat the small stuff and get upset
ready to deflect what we don't expect
storms spread and we get so wet
bad weather that we'd rather forget

we preset our heads to reject
whatever we don't see as correct
we've all bled and shed tears of regret
it's our necks that we try to protect

when letting two hearts connect
reverence has the better effect
it's the common threads that we neglect
instead of accepting we choose to except

so ****** doomed, destiny defeated
we need what we please, not what is needed
searched for something new and never succeeded
we even said please and begged and pleaded

there can't be no doomsday deleted
we cheat each other, it's we who are cheated
more reckless reasoning is repeated
can't stop the cycle, nearly completed

within my own vicinity
i search for simple serenity
tending to my own tendencies
mending without amenities

sick and twisted remedies
a bitter sweet identity
my slit-wristed entities
the enemies of my memories

i am crying out loud
it falls on deaf ears
my pain is avowed
but only death hears

air is just a cloud
which my breath fears
my end is my shroud
created by less cares

this agony is endowed
tested by my best years
only silence is allowed
where only death hears

(A big thank you to all the ones who have ever read my words)

with no place left to go
i face the cold hard fight
when you live under a rock
darkness is your only sight

with no stone left un-turned
that leaves me nowhere to hide
left out in the sun to burn
i can't turn this stone inside

with no reason left to live
i grow colder by the night
crawling from this stone to give
my life to the dying light

planting and then digging up the past
like grasping hands of shattered glass
scattered patterns come back fast
an attachment to the splattered mass

blackened fragments of first and last
spattered paths that lead right back
stabbing agony that will never pass
shackled to the everlasting black

I have never been sophisticated
sophistication just never related
relative to everything i hated
hatred of the over-stated

i have never been materialistic
materialism isnt a characteristic
characterized by a mind that's realistic
realize i am not hedonistic

i never gave a **** about tradition
traditional is subject to my definition
defined by my own composition
composed of passion and ambition

look beyond the midnight skies
well past where the dim light dies
what you might find in the dark
is a brand new way to realize

look beyond what your eyes see
to where your thoughts try to flee
what you might find in your mind
is a brand new way to be free

Curse me
with your beauty
with your eyes
make me feel something
even if it is "cursed"

curse me
with your movements
with your hands
make me want something
even if i cant have it

curse me
with your mouth
your words
tell me something
even if it's untrue

curse me
with your existence
with your being
make me love something
even if love never lasts

curse me

it's hard to believe what I have seen
in the steeples, they fill the seats
claiming to love the most and the least
they leave church and their love fleets

these creatures are just killing machines
seemingly demons of in between
people sleeping in deceiving dreams
never seeing what Jesus means

self-appointed reapers for the beast
grievous destroyers of the peace
driving jeeps with a sticker that reads:
we support our troops in the middle east

yesterday has come and gone
it's getting harder to stay strong
every action, I have owned
every right and every wrong

tomorrow isn't a promise made
and yesterday cannot be saved
another sunset, I watch fade
another day closer to the grave

This problem has gone on so long
we always reach the same old sum

divided by lies
multiplied by my failure to learn
In division, we carried over

the sequences of your dishonesty
compounded by lack of ownership

numbers don't lie

you brought a lot of uncertainty into the equation
it played a huge factor
the lowest common denominator

I never was good at arithmetic, but something doesn't add up

subtract me

i feel like the walking dead
rotten thoughts calling often
no stopping the stalking dread
crossing over from my coffin

bury me deeper

just a corpse, looking back
maggots feasting on the placid
no stopping the pulling black
passing over from my casket

i've spent a lot of time on this planet
watching these creatures who inhabit
they say god made it, and it's granted
god won't be the one to **** it

for every gun there's someone to man it
flies with barrels aimed at maggots
they build a fire, then they fan it
flames pull them in like a magnet

they **** each other, and they even plan it
on this planet where i have landed
mankind are the ones wreaking havoc
it's hard for me to understand it

Hey mister, can you spare me a dime
or maybe just a moment of your time
I hate to admit, I'm a starving artist
maybe my choices aren't the smartest

it seems senseless starving for art
artistic integrity plays a big part
parting my ways seems so hard
hardest part is silencing my heart

hey mister, can I sell you a rhyme
it might mean something over some time
I'm proud to admit I'm a starving artist
even though these days are the hardest

Sleeping dogs are kicked
just to hear them bark
we stare at the sun
and stay in the dark

the dead men tell tales
and we make our horses drink
a rolling stone gathers moss
and **** doesn't stink

we are better sorry than safe
the sword is mightier than the pen
practice never makes perfect
it's all just pretend

two wrongs make a right
never is better than late
we don't see our own sight
we are what we hate

we look gift horses in the mouth
while birds of a feather peck each others eyes out

let's all revel in the duplicity
duplicate posts that lack authenticity
authentic thoughts fall to the simplicity
simple minds are guilty of complicity

a new origin of no originality
original thinking crushed by formality
formal rules lead to our commonality
common perspectives to lower our mentality

the only way that he could say bye
buying a red rose and watching it die
dying to find some other way
weighing his options to live another day

he couldn't help but to feel like a heel
healing was hard and the pain was real
reality soaked him like torrential rains
reigning over his will to remain

(I am trying to get back to following the ones who follow me, or take interest in my writing. The best way to "**** out" was to unfollow all, and then look at the list of my followers. I hate to be that way, but i also hate to see the ones who unfollwed me on my "home" page. Please bear with me, because it will only allow me to follow so many people a day apparently.)

i have said enough prayers
so i'm done praying
no one really hears
or cares what i'm saying

i have fought enough fears
now i'm done fighting
all the wasted years
wrongs not worth righting

i've had enough regrets
no more ***** for giving
the heart never forgets
but i must go on living

living life like a photograph
I am captured in that moment
a record of images of the past
the black and white of atonement

the negatives scroll through my mind
by now, I guess I get the picture
a flash frame from that place in time
on this wall, I am a fixture

living life like a photograph
it's on my wall, then I own it
a snapshot of images of the past
a still frame of atonement