Some will walk away their cares as if they walk up or down the stairs into or out of oblivions face as their mask of poetry falls from place onto the floors with checkered squares that are covered and littered with their words like flares from phrases of I don't care punctuated with the stuffings from ripped apart stuffed bears flogged by improper English weilded stares as imperfect hands in braile will yell skin deep in demeanor not so hard to tell or keep and no doubt to all I have to say as I wave my hands goodbye good day.

How overly flawed
My mistakes are,
As they flew
Breathlessly
Under the skyline.

I exhaled those regrets
But they kept on
Rebounding
Back at me.

How fair is our judgment
when there's so
many bought votes ?

How can you rely on its
System when there's so
many curves
in it's backdoor ?

How long can fair play
last when your lifetime
isn't enough for your fee ?

Justice is relatively
Unfortunately to
Some.

I ask the people of the world
Why must we keep boxes of
each race, barricades in each
Borders, separate lives of each
Cultures, as our truth varries in
    each mirrored choices, then we
Carry the havy consequences,
The burden of these shackled
Past - we ponder to wonder
These nightmarish Regrets
So in the end, the answer is
Subjective, rules and walls
Are there for a reasonable
Purpose
It maybe
good or bad
Light or dark
Day or night
An infinite battle
Running in circles
         to maintain
chaos and order
in one box.

There is agony in my ecstacy
Pain beneath the scab
I place my dreams on "holding"
as I face the winter's drab

My Earthly loss is settled
My Heavenly gains abound
I'm tempestuous in my room alone
justifying time above the ground


I gift a deadly raptor
The chains have held me blind
I whisper please Lord don't forsake me
Remember me when it comes my time

Poets become a person
no  longer bound by words of deeds
They crumple up the paper
As they cast away the weeds

The words run cold as crystals
forming outside the frozen glass
I still away the moments
like they be unto my last

The blue sky no longer enthralls me
Neither does the night
What used to be so enticing
no longer seems so right

I say , I don't know
way too often now it seems
When sparrows flutter all about
Are they living out their dreams