Describe yourself. Describe this world. Describe a tree. Describe an iPhone, a dung beetle, a circling vulture, a pill you swallow daily.

Things, millions of things, are occurring simultaneously around us and it is up to us what we decide to describe as note-worthy.

We mentally decide what is praiseworthy.

Strive to describe only that which is worthy, when we are surrounded by so much that unworthy.

Mediating throughout my body is a shivering cold, the winter is here and snowfall is now of old, yet I continue shaking in a blindfold.

Wandering aimlessly in these woods of life,
trying to fixate and aim and not ***** the competing wildlife.

My one chance to make it in this forest,
I must listen as though I am this woods leading aurist.

All of this preparation for one shot at a "happy life",
a cookie-cutter form of "what to do" with your knife.

As a twig snaps beneath me and all is spooked I suddenly realize,
I now hypothesize that I must revolutionize my own "happy life"

I sprint through from and away the woods without a second of regret or care of the startling noise I paraded through these sacred woods, the bright moon leading me to all that I wanted...happiness.

I feel decompressed and lethargic,
as I continue scrolling through my online soul only to see a kind-hearted person now nostalgic.

Why can't we all feel the same?

Why does the world seem to be aflame?

It's because we all try to accomplish being perfect,
and when we spot "convicts" we don't even detect we inflict neglect.

The thought of unity is fading away as is the hippie way,
a late anniversary bouquet whittling away,
a smoking cigarette left around the ashtray, dying this midsummers day.

Why is this thought so crazy anyway?

The change starts internally,
and can only be finished by an honest community,
one where we can all live with our acquired mental immunity.

Finally, peace sets within our unity.

Tick tock I hear the clock. Sweating and flaming inside the sheets, when will this nightmare become what it truly is, a dream. Not reality.

I can't awaken, not even after my best pinch, as I fall deeper into my fear I quickly realize I'm on stage. Performing for just one in the crowd, finally feeling deep inside the cringe.

Naked and afraid on the inside, appearing confident and sculpted from outside, as if made of clay.

Melting away by the second from the constant flames, liquid drops falling to the floor splashing, and crashing, as we do what seems like play.

****** ambitions always stay, but true love and relationships float away.

I can't hold onto how, or keep fighting this fight. This is just the present situation, and this girls heart won't stay together tonight.

Smashing and crumbling hearts to pieces becoming a normal routine, where the true effect is slid beneath the rug, beneath the feet of where we're *******.

Changing myself, evolving into a new chapter and turning a page.
Tired of this ****, the feeling of rage from being in a locked cage.

I will break free of this war I wage.
I will break free and stop my irrational jeer, finally, I will celebrate the moment with this lady, not the nightmare.

Through anarchy, you gain fame.

Through monarchy, you claim an executive name.

Through trial, you earn a new automobile.

Through a steal, you gain a first class meal.

Throughout it all, you learn that the battle is not worth the fall.

Throughout it all, you learn how to find your natural call.

Never stay bitter, always maintain your positive mental attitude.

Never proclaim yourself as rude or crude, even when rarely understood.

Evil lurks and stalks at every corner, seeping into every facet of life preparing the perfect storm for a shocked mourner.

Societies new idiocracies somehow grew, and grew, while peace bent and waned beyond its known limit, as the first crunch echoed from the u-shaped bamboo, all greedy intent was now all spent.

Rise above the masses, and lead your own personal thought.

All these years kept in the dark, tons and tons of distraught,
when this pain is the only sensation necessary to uncover the hidden truths, and the malicious blind-spots.

Commit ****** then flip an ounce, a nonchalant verse that promotes the internal joust, with
pride earned as the only badge that counts.

Tap the snare drum for a bar, or vibing melody,
our backwards society stereotypes "thugs" as, "what drugs are they selling me?"

Rap is art in raw form,
intended to excite the youth who see death as a norm, the daily street storm.

Women de-humanized for a buck,
men taught to only treat them good if they **** and don't run out of luck.

The concrete jungles can only have just one king upon a throne, as the vicious cyclone continues destroying futures of the youth unless they succeed in the booth.

Youth commit ****** then flip an ounce,
pride earned needs to be denounced.

The prancing sheep evade my mind and eat upon greener pastures.

I squirm and wince at every thought that repetitively repeats, "just go to sleep", while tracing back the day's steps and weighing the factors.

Why must my mind be so out of sync with the tune of my body?

The wise would advise physical exhaustion is not sufficient ammo to defend against morphing into a groggy zombie.

Insomnia? No...I can have a good night, windows open and naturally closed eyes.

Anxiety? No...my life is too right, for me to not realize this sleep is just something I idiotically idolize.

Change? Yes...I can grow and stow away any thoughts which summon the riot, organize the files and endless waiting miles.

Minutes to hours, hours to frustration,
all until a simple revelation, I've had singular control of the entire situation.

Through meditation, finally free of this voluntary probation.

For no longer do I fear my head touching those precious feathers, and no longer wince at the warm and fleece-ridden wrapping like tethers.

I can now dim the blinding internal light, and tear from the controlling reigns that started this nightly pillow fight.

I briskly walk heel-to-toe in order to keep my surprise,
equipped and prepared with deadly ammunition from the wise.

I spot many targets running clearly in and out of plain sight,
as I methodically recite the magical words for entering the limelight.

Other hunters encircle and stalk the same prey,
each of their minds accelerating towards the main entree.

Encompassed and imprisoned by materialistic greed,
and it all started from a small seed, the creation of currency.

The few who control these jobs drink any ambrosia of their picking,
simultaneously tossing constituents bones about after tooth picking.

Too much is never enough, yet we all throw out the crust.

The world's insatiable thirst is much more than these agenda-based bluffs, it is all about making a job market for many...is that too tough?

My ambition is withering.
Cheers to the day when the pain ceases simmering.

My senses numbed and dull,
climbing into a mad state of power topped with energy, no longer beautiful.

My exterior is only a mask to the mayhem brewing and invading, as my interior is instantly stripped of all innocent glimmering.

The smallest of spark will ignite my flame,
a new pain that will bring an actual feeling, considering.

The flint and rock hit, as the heat rises and begins blistering.

Calmness is all I feel in this heated moment of usual irrationality,
a bliss peace peels open my eyelids to a simpler reality.

No longer do I pace back and forth alone,
booming shouts of unrelenting and steady voice high, never below.

I welcome the engage of the rage and only shiver as comfort is dissipating from the beautifully illuminated stage.

Just as sudden as it did begin, the pain begins withering and halts to a peaceful end.

Dream fast and don't describe a limit,
as we spin around this world of purity and wicked.

Is poetry the healing avenue you so desperately must cross, to ignite the rocket fuel inside us...and for once...see past the gloss?

Move past the greed of materialistic comfort,
outrun the inexhaustive shadows that can only bring suffers.

Escape your facade of reality which is your own construction,
and turn your pain into your own harmoniously beautiful art production.

Once you see that you are not alone, as the pain is happening globally,
you will finally ingest and release the power of poetry.

Pain, suffering, mourning about it all.
Why can't I understand the meaning of it all, God's true call?

I thought about it long and without mistake,
I filled my mind with love and prayed until I heard no refrain.

My thoughts rebound and ricochet about,
I can't control it and neither can these restless legs who want to shout.

I realize now it truly all is in my head,
for me personally...God is dead.

Tagged on the wall as a symbol of my emotions, thoughts and sense.
Giving life to the chaos in my head, guarded by a moral fence.

Seen as a punk, and never taken as creative,
always wondering when the blue lights show if he can escape it.

Rebellious and stubborn is the label.

They don’t understand when you’re out there you’re free.
You can finally open your eyes and truly see,
that this urban canvas in front of me, is how I express emotionally.

Burning rays of sunshine floating through the windows,
seemingly flawless gleams of light come into view as vivid luminosity, elegantly shimmering throughout a newly defined Disco.

Lustrous eyes willingly glare at sparkling streaks, rays, happy as the illumination spreads fully and evenly throughout,  steadily engulfing a tired mind.

A time of peace, or is this all intertwined?

Suddenly hopeful of a new design that is perfectly undefined.

The streaks of light were never assigned,
which is the solid evidence needed to believe we are all aligned.

A gentleman holds my hand.

A man pulls my hair.

A soulmate will do both.

― Alessandra Torre

Help is on the way, squeeze your lids and dream away.

Wish away the hours past, as realities minutes pass through the hourglass.

The sunlight fades in your mind, and inevitable gloom takes control.

Why is life treating me so, I can’t take this many blows.

Somebody take my hand and guide I, the blind.

It’s the only thing that can tame the feelings inside.

Everyday the world keeps its spinning, and the oxymoron of father time catches fire to your mind.

Leaving you distraught and worried with nothing but fast paced pandemonium bouncing around the circus that can't be benign.

But one day the smoke will dissipate.

Leaving you smiling without a thing to anticipate.

Finally at peace with simplicity at bay.

Leaving you happy every single day.

Clinching to the one thing I know,
an elegance that was sewn,
with the other side now more unknown.

Bulging droplets of wealth drench us favored few,
our worry of adversity quickly evolves into voodoo.

Lessons can be taught to those who are ignorant,
but we can't be fair, or fix every situation.

Harsh times can be seen in advance,
but only by those who aren't caught in trance.

So I will let you know,
from the balcony of my chateau,
when the world will get rid of those below.

Constantly dreaming. Yet, my body continues working like a machine, keep the pistons steaming and clean.

One day we will awaken to the reality of it all, and take one giant leap for mankind, yet still so small.

When will we learn that our minds are the true source of work, not the hours of constantly bending and scooping filthy pounds of dirt.

While necessary and a dream to some, working for them ignores the membership to the new Country Club, but a fight for chances to escape hell, their homes, the slum.

We take for granted how easy we have it, sitting behind our constantly evolving superficial habit, chasing pre-determined dreams so we will Just Do It, even if we must illegally grab it.

I hope for a day when work aiding the greedy is no longer, and we can finally concentrate on the true goal of developing our world and mind together.

Without the ****** conflicts, what will slimy men above do? They will shake at night in their beds, worried to death that their defeat is in the population's collective heads

Knowledge is power, and power in this century is undefined; materialistic riches lose their value quickly when you can create things with your mind.

Open the floodgates to creativity, and finally use the power of connectivity. We must step up, and stand together, when we begin developing the future for our new century.

Caught in trap, nowhere to hide.
In the depths where the demons hide.

You know right just as well wrong.
You justify your being wrong.

Haze filled mind with one priority.
Start to fall to pieces when you lose your inventory.

The car was pawned I hope he will do delivery.
He rings the front door and I run as quick as I can towards the enemy.

You give the money, he gives you product.
You can't take another second feeling this chaotic.

Narcotics generate the psychotic, and idiotic.
The low creates the demonic.

Why can't you just use logic.
Start a new life which isn't episodic.

Make it one that breaks the chains.
Finally find your true self and heal the strains caused by past pains.
And with no other choice but to give up the reins.

Tread lightly against the brush.
As all it takes is just one more rush.

Shouldn’t I be in the Alps or Andes not in a baby crib?
So scared to leave the comfort of home, that I never lived.

Why can’t I grow mature and find my true self?
As the rest of society puts money and fame on the top shelf.

Passing time by, to pass the time.
Rationalize life-hindering decisions, even if the work is part-time.

Don’t let reality get in the way of your dreams,
and play into the schemes and themes of the powerful thieves.

Materialism bogging down thoughts of freedom.
Want to fly like an eagle, But the money is all spent.

How are we all so content?

Passing time without a care,
see one thing that brings a stare.

White glimmer in her hair, can't resist the glare.
Why don't I know her, I feel like a square.
Am I more than just unaware?

Gain the courage before the stop at Times Square,
it's my one chance to ignite this unknown love affair.

I move in swiftly and consistently prepare.
I will not fail this time I swear.

One last straightening swipe through the hair.
She does the same, does she also care?

As I move in close I realize its like a mirage from Vanity Fair,
this woman has the looks to rise my sensory hair.

Greetings were made, and lives compared.
Suddenly I feel like we were distinctly paired.

We exchange numbers and I no longer feel obscure,
this is how I know I care. She makes me feel as though I am cured.

Innocent love so pure, will the banks become murky or stay clear?

I wonder why the feelings can’t drift from inside.
Constant colors swirling, but the gray exterior looks benign.

Untold truths that we all hide.
Until revealed, we willingly deny.

Adversity breaks down the barriers that are steady.
Becoming yourself, fighting to redefine.

Let your true self shine through, you're ready.
Don’t be afraid of the world, it’s ready.

Walk the halls with grim looks and depression.
Nobody around to see your perspective.

Wandering aimlessly mad at the their judgmental impressions,
wishing for one time those around would be respective.

Its a vicious circle promoting no faith of escape,
giving the mindset one of a broken VHS tape.

Blurred and confused, irrational and mad,
why not grab the hidden gun from Dad?

Make the others feel your pain, because they boast superior,
while in reality the exterior hides the pains and insecurities of
their interior.

No brain feels zero pain, or is immune to adversity,
every soul has a time of diversity.

Never give up or blame the others.
No matter how bleak, just find yourself and discover your true colors.

Stuck in the middle of reality and haze, constant struggle that cannot be raised.

Undeniable truth that holds consistent, that without moderation the pains are persistent.

Underneath the silken exterior, lies a boy with images that his life is inferior.

Don’t fall down the hole that is too deep to see, become one with the grasp that will never let you free.

Understand that this is reality, and beat the struggle that thinks it has you caged.

Don’t give up and continue to grow, learn from your mistakes and the undeniable utterance of the word no.

In and out, in and out.
My mind wanders, and my thoughts shout.

In and out, in and out.
We fight the stress, anxiety, that life nefariously chews out.

In and out, in and out.
The breath can calm, and ignite serenity's droplets atop an arid drought.

In and out, in and out.
I refuse to clock-out, and will always shout, I know myself throughout.

Is maturity a thing,
as we wither old?

Do we really learn our lesson,
and finally do as we are told?

I do not.
I refuse.
I will be smart and taught,
yet gleefully confused.

Never content,
never sold.
Always enthused,
and always boozed.

Life can't be seen as seriously real,
as we are all just playing a living game.

We can pierce our own Achilles heel,
or stand tall to pronounce all you overcame.

Put you in my pocket and run away,
never again to see you as loose change.

Ill never let you go, thinking I can make it last,
not taking the time to contemplate my frivolous past.

Living in the moment materialism seems to sweet,
gasping for breath in between the debt-ridden tears.

Making new claims, but I eventually forget my newly instilled rate of exchange.

If only I knew how to make the perfect caste.

But certainly we won’t forget what happened in the past.

Kids running amuck in the streets,
burning lamps glistening to life with buzzes and beats.

Wonder and awe floats through their eyes,
a life of possibility calling loud and raw and they don't realize.

No vice infecting their dream,
no skewed perceptions morphing life into schemes.

Until they awaken one morning and gasp one deep breath,
and suddenly realize their childhood has finally left.

Holding on tight to the things we love,
Never to fly away and become history like a romantic dove.

If we lose what is close we feel broken inside,
When in reality we are fighting with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Never fear the unknown and go into the darkness,
Holding onto materialism until you see a sky that is starless.

Don’t be blinded by greed and power,
True happiness lies in greener pastures.
Internal happiness to avoid third party disasters.

Counting the sheep to say goodnight.
When all I can think of is your goodbye.

Let me sleep for once tonight.
For I am tired of losing the fight.

Enter my dreams and change my mind.
Why I shouldn't think about you every single time.

When your mind is caught and scrambled about, and grenades pop off you scream the ****** shout.

Whatever your fear for whatever cause, you must be able to sit still and give life a pause.

Don't be afraid to resist the urge, technology has made the need to talk more; we're in need of a purge.