It's a crying shame
The pursuit of our own wealth lights a flame
That makes greed a game that lets the whole world
burn
As the world turns, the whole world burns
Money was invented for trade
But now those bits of paper twist hearts, make
slaves
Turns a saint to a sinner
A child to a killer
His finger on the trigger of a money game

“You’ll be fine…”
Right i’ll be fine with my labels to brag.
With my diploma, undergraduate degree, masters, phd
Under all that, me. I can barely see me-
I’ll be fine but, happiness? Is that in the picture?
Sorry I digress...

Though.
The status quo, they tell us A+ vital,
F is the devil,
Dr label in front of your name makes you capable.

I breathe complex numbers and long words
my blood is A+ and yes, it is something I lust.
For I, in this reality and life need that degree, PHD-
it is vital to me.
Contradicting my dreams?

I am composed

Underneath the layers of clothes I am melting-
but don’t get me wrong I am imploding not exploding for I am-

Composed.

I am composed and in matter of fact I am in control. How do you think I am able to hide under these expressions and ink with such precision and succession.

Composed I hide under the veil of my disguise. My clay face, and I-promise to not disgrace not betray I pray for my clay face to stay and stay it must-

For-
I am composed. I am.

No one told me that clay cracks under heat. Never mind I shall try metal for a mask that way I could bask in all the rays that is imploding heat.

Never exploding you will never be decoding never loading the ideas in my mind that would make me sway to a side make me change my mind for I will not waver.

I am composed.

Adopted.

Maybe not wanted
called out and hoped for a response and-
maybe I don't want it.

Stars.
Stars you
see-
the ol folks I look at are the same ones you
see-
looking into history-
stars die-

reminding me-
stars remind me of the one who left me.

From timid tap to thud feet come running-
Eyes in the back of necks dare open to the groan
of a grandfather ticking clock, fingers
fingers in fauna twist to turn as dry bones roll within casket homes-
snapping knees and grinding of joins vibrate through floors waking.
Souls-
the crack of a whip hollows out stones as they tip south-
Eyes wide shut.
              Eyes wide shut-
                                                          Eyes

Milk man.
Sorry-
So it seems that the advancement of stone to metal
creeps-
From paper to metal to plastic, cardboard to plastic metal cardboard.

Explosions-
Milk man. There are erupting forces that will not think nor breath as you and I and we formulated this change thinking materialism change better-
Harvest ideas, bigger better-
Thoughts out the window computers better
connection connection connection-
Better.

Halt. Milk man-
You've rung yourself dry of job.

Blood of poison heart of gold
you were only ten years old
when the gates of heaven opened
the clouds above wept

You left through the celling
in the night time-
with eyes wide open