You didn’t like it.
My rejection.
Your rejection.
My rejection of your *******
Rejection of your ejection.
You  didn’t like it.
So , you rejected me.
You ejected me,  
From your being
You
Rejected my offerings,
My laugh,
My traits,
My whole.
Me.  
All of me
You shunned
Would you have liked it
Had I accepted what you ,
Unsheathed, would the rejection be reversed
Or would it be stalled.
Until the ejection,
Then subsequently the
Guaranteed rejection
Of the whole,  
The rejection remains
And we part ways
Ejected,Dejected.
You seemed to like it then

Contempt for the eyes that watch the twitch of the body, the spit that takes flight
From the mouth of those whose eyes
Look further than what meets the eye
Those who take no notice of the little irrelevant things but marvel at the great big.
Set before them. Taking on each challenge with vigor.  
Charging up to volunteer
Their bodies held together by the strength that hold them steady
Makes the whole.
Taking life by the reins.  
Steering their destiny
While the watchful eyes remain behind the blinds
Looking on in scorn and spewing judgement on those
Living the life they desire
The life the crave.  
Only their eyes see but the flesh does
Not feel.
Starved men left alone
Behind the blinds
Experiencing life with only their
Eyes.
But what happens when
They lose their sight.
Lose themselves
In the life of
Greater men.

When the ship of life sets sail,
where exactly will you be?
Below deck, not quite able to see the world
With your head down and your hands tucked in
your jeans' pockets. And as your ships sails on
the waters, steered by others you miss everything.
The gushing wind. you know not what it feels like,
The ocean spray. You know not what it tastes likes
The bright blue skies. You know not what it looks like.
But what you do know,
Is what it all sounds like, and so
The journey, you missed and as the ships docks on the dark
shores of the end of your journey.
All you can remember is not what it
Felt like,
Tastes like, nor
What it looks like but what it all sounded like.
Wondeful was the sound of the stories other lads had to tell
But now that you've come to the end
What is your story? The stories of men
For you never got to see, taste or feel it for yourself
Because you were below deck thinking all is well.