A perpetual existence from 9 to 5
Live to work and constantly strife
to fulfill your Debt and monstrous mind
A colorless life of an unusual kind.

Lost in technicolor talking heads
The only moment of clarity comes after your dead;
Lovely, Long, Laborious days
A life made worthless for a little pay

When it's all said and done and all that is left
is a little bit of money and a lot of theft
A stone, a hole, and a forgotten name
A house, a car, and a lot of shame.

Lying on an air mattress,  
in a metal box by the sea,
I can see them,
but they can't see me.
I watch as the numbers flow down the screen,
and the planes are painted in red and green;
A solitary station that no one sees,
How I ended up here is beyond me.
Choices made for some reason or another,
Isn't this the kind of thing you blame on your mother?
A brief look back through my time and crime,
Reveals so willingly how I ended up fine.
My action so slowly crafting my place,
My mind so cunningly setting the pace,
My body so completely embracing my path,
My conscience so silently withholding it's wrath.

Political policies; panhandled; purchased
Options? Opinions? Opted out
Like lemming lightly leaping
Instead interested in intre$t
Taken totally to the top
Individuals internally interrupted
Casually castrated, cautiously captured
Some sad sadistic soul

Communication/ medium of the mind
Improper transfer; difficult time;
Gears and pistons fire steadily
Words are formed and jump out readily
Filtered or not; good or bad
A possible high, or impossible sad
An idea new, bright, and free
A rain cloud of dark, of which you can see
The freedom erupts! The face celebrates
The storm corrupts, the eyes retaliate
A perilous game played (by two) together
An exchange we somehow all get through
A skill we improve with each Endeavour

I strip to feel the soaking sun,
to drip the yellow glare,
beneath the blue and white laced run,
of daydream's clever snare.
This foreign land or greens and reds,
and horrid spots of black,
natures paint of words worth said,
and things worth taking back.
A natural land of unnatural tastes,
human filth piled high,
a wholesome way put to waste,
a self imposing lie.

i watch as the demand falls from his lips
with no Perhaps it lands on my(our) ears
the Eyes scream the finally of a weak will
and the body if fitting for such a small thing
my will cringes with Nothing and Everything
the Eyes flicker sadistic understanding
Instinct reminds the Always of the Never
and the commotion awakens Reality
my(our) swallowed must's exhume forever me's
reminding the Always of examples made

the Longing

the Body in which I belong to
feels so worthless at times of Longing
images of you; the World but a veil over
my mental eye; for all I feel is you
Daily must of a second nature
justified by the Longing that makes me
weak; not in force but Will
for what is a Will that longs
but does not acquire?
to see the Sun glisten off the sweat
from my brow is to see your face
always apparent; Alive, Active
in every action and every part
to see and say nothing without
you in it, behind it, above it
the Longing is welcome; it embraces
who I am and reminds me where
I will always belong.
With you.