Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Oct 2016 Illya Oz
Christine
Alone again.
Did I let it happen,
Did my ego lose a battle
with this ever-lasting chaos,
It must be so,
Because my ego made it clear,
You will never write again
your paper will stay clean.
And my heavy cloud
aimed at me again,
It became a mask
to hide me from the page.
It hid me from myself
and said this was now me,
It said I have no one to blame
but false reality.
It told me I was perfect,
It told me life's for me,
It told me to forget
the truth and then it buried it.
and just when I imagined
this lie to be my life,
I saw myself in broken glass
and I have had enough.
enough of being human
or falsely living free,
And ego had to die three times
to make my chaos clear.
No more lies,
No more masks,
No more perfect scenes.
now I understand myself,
for who I choose to be.
In my raw reality,
living lies is not for me.
Painted with pain
and scars of my past,
Once more I can create
something that will last.

Memories of cold
before my eyes unfold,
Waking from my dreams
and in my mind they grow.
Today my soul is tempted
but I choose to be patient.
Today I am making peace
with all of my creation.
This is my true face,
This is my rebirth.
The reaper I was hiding from
was living the truth.

Now I know freedom
by the taste of bitter,
And I know I'll soon forget
thoughts that were sweeter.
My destruction is creation,
My death is a new page,
I will write an introduction
with ego's dying breath.
A white pickup truck chasing a brown sedan
Silver birds , one after the other once again
A corporate 'Cat' chasing the prize goose for a window view
Cops and robbers on the tube , the morning news *******
session , the evening robot spew
The internet truth , the newspaper gobbledegook , the
song with the same hook , the heroes , the Nero's ,
the high numbered and the zeros* ...
Copyright October 9 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Moms cooling sugar cookies on top of the oven and
at age fifty- two I'm still sneaking one into a shirt pocket
without her knowing* ....
Copyright October 9 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Not a good thing
When one lives in poverty
Situations are often dreary
While in a state of uncertainty
There are dark clouds
That appear in the sky
Nothing but somber moments
As life sadly passes you by
Next page