I am the Lorax, who once spoke for the trees
In the hope of bringing progress to its knees
But now I have grown somewhat older and tired,
My outlook and thought process being rewired
(Sometimes to see forest, you must clear the trees.)

Examine the case of the Brown Bar-ba-loots
Whose interests for so long I worked in cahoots.
Could such timid beasts truly thrive in the wild
So innocent, trusting, submissive, and mild?
(My former assertions I strongly refute.)

Why, see how they frolic and scamper in zoos;
How can one watch them and steadfastly refuse
To see how much better their lot is today
As joy for our children as opposed to prey
(A happy condition where no one can lose.)

Ah, scoff the nihilists, but Truffula Trees,
Those havens for birds and those homes for the bees.
Why, what do you say now that they are all gone,
Removed to make way for some suburban lawn?
(These angry young men—O Lord, take them all please!)

I gently remind them it’s just nature’s way,
That some species go while other ones stay,
The carrier pigeon’s no longer alive
Yet somehow we manage to live—indeed, thrive!
(In the face of brute logic, they’ve little to say.)

So don’t be dismayed or frightened or leery
Of doomsday projections outlined by theory
Suggesting that our time on this earth may be done;
Consider the caged Bar-ba-loot having fun
(And we hear fish do quite well in Lake Erie.)

I wish to define you,
As a passage of time.
A pageless memory,
With words on no line.

Yet too strong for,
A definition you are.
Like grasping sunshine,
From an exploding star.

So in my mind,
Vaguely you'll stay.
Understandings evader,
In which labels dismay...

Tar

How could you have
expected me to defend you,
when you had, without an explanation,
bid me adieu?
How could you expect me
to wipe your slate clean
when you were never
what you seemed?

Your stain remains though
your traces have been
blurred and sugarcoated,
all the trouble you caused
hidden under your hood,
I receive the blasphemy
and you're a ***** for the applause,

Your lungs coated in tar,
you inhale smoke
and exhale bitterness
just to criticize
what you cannot polarize;
right, wrong, and too much.

a certain feeling is emerging.


my teeth grind


my mind seems fine.


I don’t like it.


I want to shout, I want to scream,


I want to fight, I want to blow steam

I’m uncomfortable




My eyes have been dammed for too long


I must cry, I must feel


I must share, I must reveal


I am hindered




There's a certain ******* tongue desires.


no amount of salt or sugar


will satisfy.




I don't know, but


I want out. I feel


I have no say or power to do,



But the reality is I "Do"

Ammonia*

A grudge...
maybe that's what
I'm holding for you.
A heavy package made of steel,
settled in my heart,
pleasing its own needs of
comfortability,
reminding me to
spit at your
parasitic picture of love.

We just need to hear
you say sorry,
my grudge and I,
in need of apologies
so much
we'll take it artificial.

"Excuse me?" our heart inquires,
"I'd like some oxygen."
But we can't listen to it,
not when there's so much to lose;
self respect, dignity.
We can't listen to that
stupid, little thing,
when there's so much justice
awaiting us.

Nicotine*

It was only supposed to be
a tiny, miniscule taste
but love had other ideas.
You are a cloudless sky
in my clouded mind,
In the end, I'm always
craving you.

You ever get that feeling that repeats,
like abstinence from nicotine?
You ever get that feeling of
wanting to be
numbed into bliss,
risking narrowed veins and arteries
for just one mind-silencing kiss?

I'll let passion sear my heart
and won't hear what my insecurities
love to whisper into my abused ears;
I can polarize what's blurred
and what's clear.

Methanol*

I was a bandage
which you ripped off
as soon as your wounds
were healed,
because I was loyal
and what a mistake that was
because I can't be anything else,
except what lies on
the opposite end of the spectrum;
completely detached and indifferent.

Maddening methanol,
blinding me with your impurity,
but now I see
what a fraud you were.

"Losing" you didn't injure me,
your absence didn't sink
its teeth into me;
you were sour as
sudden abandonment,
I was more than glad
to be rid of *you.