All the world's a stage
as I age without a wage,
In all my rage
I realize I'm in a cage,
I fail to turn the page.

Another day lost in this reality
arrested only by morality,
have I gone too far?
Time makes another scar,
deep and infected.

My vitality is only clouded by you,
driving again with no destination again...
Wanting to be part of something new.
I'm given another cue,
flawless and without hesitation I continue,
on this strange play called LIFE.

The perfect man does not exist,
but he does persist.
I wander the realms of the unknown,
only to find my clone.

I do not exist in this reality.
No one knows me... I have NO mortality!
I break hearts,
I fake arts.

If you want me to vanish,
Banish me again only to punish,
One day I will return the favor,
And then you may ******* bravery.

May your days be as brutal as mine futile,
love is lethal,
love is evil,
**love is everything and nothing.

A raven once said "hate doesn't equate direct hate"...
you might just be bait,
could it be your trait?
In this world nothing is guaranteed,
the human race is but another ****!

Another crying child!
No matter!
They arrive in the wild!
Left to fend for themselves in a world unknown...
Just remember they are grown.

I'm part of the unemployed youth,
it's the truth,
a generation of dreamers with endless ambition,
all with one mission:
to strive for attention under constant tension.

Overprotected and neglected,
yet somehow connected,
attacked by the constant barrage of words,
we fly like birds,
we are truly free in our imagination.

No hope for a better tomorrow,
in love with sorrow,
nothing left to borrow.
Money comes at a high cost,
your youth...lost after slavery to the economy.

Always* had a longing for belonging,
never *fit in anywhere,
a criminal in my mind,
a vigilante against myself,
protecting even the past I left on the shelf.

The battle is violent,
overdosed by reality... silent.
Neglected and ignored describe my existence.
No guilt, no shame and nothing to hide,
reborn stronger than ever now I stride with pride!

Photos are fragments of time,
never meant to exist,
parables of the past become a talk.
Do you get the gist?

A sorrowful and joyful experience,
as you gaze at your life,
from another view.
We're all animals in a cage,
clueless and content.

In our fragile existence,
one thing is secure:
A mark in time at our final hour.

Enchanted* puppets created for misery.
Born out of flesh,
the minds were fresh,
distorted in a land of illusion,
Rotting figures out of twisted confusion.

Used and abused,
just fragile spirits,
questioning nothing in this reality.
Existence without a design,
set in a shrine of compulsory pain.

The shackles broke as they spoke,
now free like other folk.
Addicted to pain and drama,
they languished without the anguish.
They sought new strings that inflict trauma.