I can never respect people who take decisions for others, Omni present child wearing adolecence .
People must never assume they have all the answers When you play the role of the actors Idealising philosophies and mystic factors You judge, aware of your sorrow bearers And with each sin, a silent look, and a feather Torn apart to make it clearer That he whom survives is repressed While the new trend is depressed Yet somehow i still picture you in your white dress, Realigned. And the voice i talk to you with Is mine, but you are not me So how can i define The slips and fissures of your subconcsious mind And thirst to be free.
To each his field and angles And if **** is heaven i am still the devil
Words Of Harfouchism
People judge people who judge people who judge who etc..
Everybody is scanning for a bond, While i lie in the shadows angling My mode of perception, to correspond Your routines and rituals of acting, And asking for boundless love.
So i abscond and you can't ask for more. Because you noticed my kind and my codes. You knew I was designed to be alone.
So I lay my tranquil smile and keep observing us coincide Feeling the pulse from the inside I drift trusting i am the aftermath of a calculated plan But something is always missing somehow Lost in my thoughts I blame the inventor
And i grow wiser, Knowing i will never understand the true motives of my designer.
I too , just like you ,wait for what inspires me. For if i write , i am consciously taking the responsibility, To offer leisure activity , and a lesson. Adaptable to every person , who has a burden , Or not Doesn't matter , because i hit the right spot.
It is a self healing method i earned, Long ago , i learned not to be concerned Because, Energy can neither be created nor destroyed , only transformed.
We are patterned.
Shift your fixation. Love is attitude and behavior. You don't need a savior.
i write to enlight myself to survive the path i chose to have in life so i scream please who could hear? or see? or relate to the kid who hides alone at the break high on the steps that are made from within his soul and craved in an art form so he could have a home to bear the storm coming to reform the norms of his instincts Masked so he keeps distant Blind trying to keep a link with the Mystics and it works since it's from within the layers of the skin that makes my head spin every time i remember where i have been.
Words Of Harfouchism
no punctuation find your own way to read this poem