Crumpled maybes dunked in sin
no one to cheer, 3-pointers go in.
Silence: loud, no effort in clouds
mind trapped, feeling like an exile.

A pause, not in play,
my mind’s gone away–
Tahiti! with ***, my new child.

Warm beach ’neath my feet,
parties sans the beat,
endless walks free in denial.

Can’t settle too long;
avoiding poems in song.
Trash packed with thoughts I’ve compiled.

Signatures forced; names pulled out of hats–
‘marching for freedom!’ They’ll lie like a bat.
Justice claimed in propaganda’s song,
rifles loaded and cocked for causes feeling wrong.

Unbled suits, children passing notes;
shrapnel still hits–truth gutted in quotes.
Let’s salute the flag, like we’re stuck in the past,
while allies become the enemies at last.

Defensive claims shading truth for more land,
treaties get forged with the loss of a hand.
Stitched uniforms covering fear and doubt–
once you’re drafted, there’s no getting out.

Next war’s a’coming–they’ll force with a smile;
algorithmic orders, new patriots’ style.
So focus your rage, don’t fall into the lore–
reasons disappearing; they’ll send you offshore.

An ankle? My, what a tragic turn of fate–
apparent flaring, perfect for the date.
Amazing! Striking so near the frame,
just when the vibe started feeling plain.

Guess it comes natural–
lying without a try.
Excuses come easy for those playing sly.
Thought we had love; I guess that explains:
meaningless texts stay stuck on the brain.

Crippling commitment–still almost combined.
Try to keep fakers from manipulating my bind.
So stay in your lane; fake love, keep your pride.
I’ll limp away, just letting you slide.

Topics truthful, detached, a couple mentions of pain,
but vibes is what seems to ignite the flame.
A tongue on warm thighs, sultry stares rise;
just like the views, feeling heat in the air.

Passing eyes seeking more? I guess it’s a bore–
more visuals; let’s roll in the hay!
A part of the game, some roles will stay–
quill making loops under hair.

Keep switching lanes; no need for acclaim,
they’re wanting a show– I’m not entertain-
ment.

So, I write to fun not impressment–
no, no, no, no
thoughts in my head, investment
bears.
Still, ink flows, paper trails creating
scenes running from misery.

Solution spilled on the tile
scent strong, clean, but too much by the mile.
Scrubbing dirt on my knees–
nothing too vile.
Just a kid with a rag and a needing: worthwhile

Barging in with a tension,
not trying to fight.
Accusing sin, closing in,
eyes angry and bright.

Forests, trees calm– noises quite loud
Try to keep quiet, just as rehearsed–
invisible, head bowed.

Scream in my face, inches from cursed
try it today–

kids go out and play.

some people need help—
it’s crazy to see.
stalking kids, pedophil’ is
A ******* disease.