It's All About Perception**
No one can understand you, because you're not your typical run of the mill
it's all due to your philosophy, a mind that thinks but a tongue that sits still
years quickly pass you by, finding yourself alone and in a world of your own
as you learn the value of pen and paper, finding refuge in a place unknown

Like being trapped in a bubble, peering out upon the world as a screen
watching everyone going about their business, while you remain unseen
transfixed on your reality you close your eyes, wishing it were but a dream
unable to fathom the depths of emotions, waiting to take you to the extreme

The reality of who you are can no longer be ignored, facing each day from anew
accepting the fact that you have no control, from others, forced to take your cue
this world is all about rising above, as it starts at the very moment of conception
it follows us throughout life, as we learn the rules, mastering the art of deception

The external images you portray, a needed smokescreen, to maintain the perception
your moves are well planned, the primary focus of your attention, without exception
failing to have considered the matter, you realize you haven't made the connection
your insecurities have misdirected your behavior, demanding the world's affection

There's no denying this fact; life is nothing more than a continuous act of deception
while the true level of your mastery of it, your ability to advance without aggression
at the end of the journey, despite what we went through, it might come as a surprise
realizing that happiness was always there, only hidden from us by our own disguise

Why continue living the life of lies, playing the games people play, there is yet hope
break the bonds of self-deception, because this vanity has really become your dope
be who you really are, a genuine beauty to behold, and in you will someone admire
your hidden love now freed, surrendered to someone true, to build that endless fire

Brittle as glass
Strong as steel
Truth is powerful
So keep it real

The beach is dry
The sea appears green
The sun light blazing
On a sky so clean

We seek it and love it
Hold it so near
Like a bell ringing
Sweetly and clear

Sweetened and pure
The water overfloweth;
The truth separates
The liars and the voiceless

As tis we hath choices
To settle the scene;
Some seeketh reality
Others liveth in dreams

And between these things
We keep our head's topped;
Speaking honesty in mantra
Wherein one's ears shalt pop

And aloft the floss
Of the sky that is greyish blue;
We shalt travel by wingspan
Showing amour so true

In depths we dive
The sun we trust
Till we hit the  rocks
And get shattered to dust

Holding our breath
The pressure gets worse
This mighty  sea  *has never
Quenched anyone's thirst

There is a young man who deserves our support
He runs a website where poets can talk
It's called HP
It's totally free
And his name is Eliot York

Set course for
The new coordinates
We're going in
If we find a wormhole
We'll take it for a spin
If there are Romulans
We'll defend and win
They don't call us
Galaxy Class
For nothin'

One day you're here,
the next day there,
No connection
between the two
but you.

Not like a boat
leaving the dock
and having the
shorelines fade
slowly away

Not like an airplane
above it all
when it all becomes so
small,
Until landing
brings it back up
to size,
Not like that at all.

Not like watching
them waving,
Fading away
as you drive down the street.

Yesterday at work,
In love,
Home with your parents,
Your spouse,
Your children

Today it's not present at all,
Whole ways of being,
Don't dissolve,
The program changes,
Lights on,
Lights off,
Maybe a flash
in-between,
But that's all,
can you tell me, my friend,
What does it really mean?

Yesterday, today, tomorrow,
I guess we are not all three,
The present is not a flow.

Just you and me now,
As we go.

All is
this composition book
in front of me,
With one more period
to go.