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Jan 2022
Is it desperation?

Is it loneliness?

I say nigh.

I still have the patients left to hear the excuses.
I oblige.

Will it satisfy?
Will I be able to see through the lies?

My hot head can't acquit.

I set forth an hour to find the time,
But I don't know any longer why I try.

Why I try so hard and yet I still cannot find.

If it is not me then let it be known.

If tragedy is a gift with in time then who am I to judge?

Will I be used to one another's ends?

My mother can attest to the fact that I will not give in.

If it's serious then I must see.

If its just forgotten along with me amongst it all
And all others who have ever been
Then not enough attention will be given without.

When I speak to you
I must confess
It was the highlight of some of my days that were well spent.

I can't be you and I'm not the same.

Even Cinderella must revert back into her old ways
Before she can accept a great change.

I could give a dream that would have any other dream be dreamt,
But if the dream doesn't include me
Then why would I include anyone else alone?

I'd like to find what happens after midnight's moon
Does it alter our reflections back onto ourselves?

If all your friends disregard all that we have spoken
Was it really a man you sought?
Or just a thought,
Another amongst many others
To provoke?

The lot of my friends have said
Why would I give it all away with out an end?

I tried to tell them plain
Because the love that accepts what I am for me is a love that will remain.

And besides everyone I've ever met
I've felt something toward the other one,
But then again
Who am I to say?

For we will all go the same way one day.

And here I interject,
We are all together in this life
Least we forget.

You heard me rehearse over a thousand times,
But most of us are already gone.

Does heavens pitch have to be so strong?

I wonder still where their spirit can be found marching on and on?

I'm well aware when I say the most despicable of things.

I duly gave a warning to them all,
I want to tell a story that still remains.

I try to wake them up.

I will to make them see and believe in how good good can truly be.

I learned very early on freedom is the right for us to say what we wish to say.

Anything that you've ever thought.
Has meaning and every dream within your mind exists with in reality as such.

Maybe some day we will not be able to not explain without being misconstrued.

I cast away the shadows of doubt.

Like a stone that skips until it sinks,
But that's not the bottom of it it all.

It's folded so many times
When will we recall?

And If we don't know freedom
All will go without.

Missing the point
I can't cry enough.

Life is the miracle before language drifts away
I needed more,
But I had less to say.

For there's a difference that you cannot see
Words might hurt,
But the mind can try to cope

And I know that it will
In existence we have been given
Existences skill.

But if you start to **** a part of a being
You will be beckoning and elope the soul as it will,
Which has no filter to tell you where to go

Autonomy

You speak freely amongst it all,
But a promise is unruly broken,
In loves name
To those who love cares not to remain.

You can't **** a child into love.
You can't expect your offspring to be apart of your beliefs
For in giving birth you have created a new being
And if I'm left all alone
I rather be alone from z to a
Or any other language
That a conscious being
Would say.

People have to decide for them selves.
I hope that they can comprehend the factors of human lives that can make them understand.

If I, you and we merge with everything,
Tell them all that it was meant to be.
At least I'd like to believe.
Because without a thought the plot is begot
And if "God" the almighty means for our very beings to have its plans.
Then what would I have to say?
I'm sure it wouldn't matter if it was not,
But yet as I write with my ape like fingers out of my human brain that connects with it all,
That is to say,
I'd like to think that a part of the whole is what I am and If I was not then I wouldn't know what...
But, sure, ******* off
And see my sadness grow.
There's no time left to know and to not know.

There's a new year every day from the last that it was,
But even more pressing still
is that every moment is the moment that we live in and reside.

The scars of the past show our times time.
Sure it could be true,
But from the place that I sit I can still find a way to heal.

A way that is new.
I wish that people knew I could write good things too even if I was deprived of love.
Jace Albine
Written by
Jace Albine  33/M/Mars
(33/M/Mars)   
117
 
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