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Jun 2015
A pace of life.
A metronome is set.
To rush with a crowd.
Or walk alone.
Or in-between.
Resetting the metronome.
There is too much verbal
Hate in this world.
Which results in physical
Hate in this world.
Cause and affect.
The ripple affects afterwards.
With doings that cannot
Physically be undone.
After the fact.
Everyone knows this.
But the people who
Live these damaged lives
Would never wish
It upon anyone.
When everyone knows
The inevitable outcome
Of war is peace.
(or extinction)
Everyone should be intelligent
Enough to never start any.
Every person carries their own
Legacy of lies and
Possible untruths.
To live with unknowing possibilities.
Some structures are ceaselessly
Being formed with needless
Complexities
To barrier communication and
Understanding.
It’s still great to be alive, don’t forget to breathe (air).
A poem written in the mid 2000's from a self published book - 'Poetry from the wilderness years { Or slices of thoughts and emotions :-{}' - I added one edit line today. Background to poem - living in the country side at the time - still abusing drugs and alcohol - nearest village was a mile or two's walk away and i had no transport but that meant the walk to the village was beautiful but then having to jump into 'human active space' after previously just being around mind settling nature used to inspire heightened senses of fear and I could feel my mental state disintegrating often but what can you do but struggle on (or break down and be hospitalised)  - if my memory serves me - in the end I didnt want to leave the house/room I existed within and even my own thoughts of human interaction really frightened me - luckily enough a cousin down the road had a pet dog - Luka - a beautiful animal and I was asked to mind him some evenings/days/nights - I think this was the start of me coming back into 'your normal usual human society' - still now I can reread this and see the hints of my general paranoia to the whole world outside - I still think mental institutions should have organised and 100% supervised animal therapy visits if possible - it would help bring your thoughts out of your own head and into another truely non-judgemental animal form and can definitely ease anguished souls/minds/bodies. Cheers - will try to post a few more poems from this collection over the next few weeks but with hopefully some happier themes (I didnt really write about insanity during this collection because my confidence was in minus figures :-)  )
Broken Prism Prison Son
Written by
Broken Prism Prison Son  Dublin, Eire
(Dublin, Eire)   
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