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A gentleman holds my hand.

A man pulls my hair.

A soulmate will do both.

― Alessandra Torre
A poem on how to treat women, and I always remember these simple words.
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.
****, I really enjoyed and liked this write. Hope you enjoy it also, as it is a rare "happy" poem from me, about the little things in life, and how they can create inspiration no matter how common or small it is.
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.
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.
Seeping into this mattress the only consistency I know now, the only object I recognize is my stoic unchanging frown.

Running away always seems the viable choice, but the lonely mind is succumbed to having no voice.

The choice is directly in front of me and my hand, yet it looks so hideously bland, I don't understand.

When will my soul become a part of this confusing land?

So easily forgotten, do we remember the bright days of playing in the sand?

When dreams were always ingrained in the inevitable plan?

We all seem to forget the small thought of no matter what I can.
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.
Escaped from past pain and can now explain.

The epic fall and tragedy from within humanities food chain.

I said I can explain,
as I have begun to train.

Looking towards a light that illuminates the darkest of eyes and times.

How much of such brightness can I contain and retain?

What I know is I've already lived my last dark days.

I said I can explain,
no longer connected to a ball and chain.

Freedom is now in the sunrise,
see the brightness in my eyes.
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.
Like a hockey team,
accomplishing the American dream.

Like Napoleon,
giving a speech to defeat the Mongolian.

Like a forgotten man's byname,
stumbling aimlessly when it's always been within his brain.

Like a relentless cricket's chirp,
always ready to exhibit pounding energy without limit.

Seize the day, today,
for yesterday cannot be replayed.
Caught in this net of time,
the restless nights create a paradoxical paradigm.

Caught in this head of mine,
chasing after false hope that imitates the divine.

Caught in this reality of ours,
staring at the stars until we snap back into the lonely bar's guitars.
Fearful and lost in the despair of time.

Debtful to most in this life of grime.

Hopeful and dishonest looking for some change.

When all this time the key to the cage were just letters on a page.

The will to fight, true discovery and insight. The power to finally view with clear sight.
Who am I if I'm not alive enough to see?

Who can I become with so much internal deceit?

Who and what is a soul when it's become lost?

Who and what is remembered when I'm forgot?

We all traverse pain, we all know it's true name.

The cold eternal flame that is universally the same, the fuel to this almighty game of life we confusingly play.
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.
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.
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.
The woods we wander through are never-ending,
over-extending our stay in search of eternal mending.

Can I find the truth?

Can I mature past the bloom of youth?

We all wander and create our own path,
a warpath with an inevitable eternal wrath.
A rapid beating heart that stands next to you always,
I find myself atop this life intertwined between these melodic days.

Fight and quarrel about is the normality of human nature,
for it's those that can heal the wounds through love and pure conversation who should sign the everlasting legislature.

Love is a fickle sport of chance it seems,
cheers and jeers from the moonlit love we all yearn for in our dreams.

I'm emotionally tearing at the seams as I am done with these schemes,
no more joining of the socially pressured regimes.

Your love is all I need and all that is true,
I want to live every moment with you again and again as an everlasting deja vu.
Desperate claws towards the fading sunset, wishing for one last duet.

Pestering pleas towards the fading trees, withering leaves as I can never please.

Inevitable tears as I accept this is the end, as I see you float away from our riverbend.
Poem on the last desperate attempts we’ve all made to save a relationship.
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.
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.
Trouble around the corner, any area you stare.
Leaving you hopeless, tired, and without a care.

Doing things in life like it's from a kid's dare,
Making you second guess reality as it may appear.

A bucket of water splashed across your face with an overwhelming dose of adversity to evolve the neuroplastic mind.

A friend who will listen intently with no judgment to find within your unrefined fight for serenity and peace of mind, no longer quarantined.

You are your own, you're not the epitome of the pain,
you are the person who should be boasting the rest as insane.

For when we all go through a fire-lined avenue of trial,
you can stand grounded, strong, and justifiable,
as your life, pain, and utter strength is now undeniable.

- For Brian
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.
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.
Monsters crawl within the mind of us all,
but the courage lies within how far we're willing
to methodically crawl.

Unbearable pressure creeping within one's self-doubt.
Are you willing to honest spout?
Will you climb the mountain face and a top it shout?

Impossible challenges lie ahead and insurmountable pain,
but the truth of such misery is a priceless gain.

Is life laughable?
Is happiness attainable?

Only you decide the fate of what you become,
so rejoice that you can trek the maze and not succumb.

You are you and there is only one.
A wide and expanding world dilate our technology,
revolutionary thoughts and conflict initiate an evolving psychology.

Simplicity in life no longer here as we form double personalities nearly on in the same, as we all have an assumed second name.

Simplicity in life sacrificed for evolution and integrated minds, or is this just the plan of humankind's masterminds?

We forget the health and happiness of past struggle, as todays anxious, depressed, and integrated minds smuggle in double trouble.
A non-conventional look at the current state of globalization, including both pros and cons. Whats your opinion?
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.
Meditation can change your outlook on life and your self.
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?
The unforgiving grasp tightens on our minds, and sinks faster than an anchor.

The unrecognizable emotions rip and tear the morality of even our best thinker.

The unjustifiable nonsense occurring has a globalized society acting consistently "faker".

The mind and reality can be united, finally at peace, if we only knew the truth behind our creator.

Our true maker.

The answer is simple.

The answer creates a giant ripple.

The answer of our creator would allow everyone to sprint, even the *******.
A poem on how simple and united our world could be if religion were eliminated through the irrefutable discovery of how we truly came to be.
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.
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.
All too often the view is bleak,
generations under scrutiny and constant critique.

When all that lies within is misery,
all it might take is a tweak.

A new perspective.

A new technique.

To open the mind and think.

All too often we're blind to the beauty surrounding,
it can enlighten and be astounding.

Your spirit begins grounding.

A different view that seems to be organically compounding,
and tears fall as life's true nature becomes clear and resounding.
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.
Cramped, lost, and crying in my own exhausted body,
tired of spending all my money like I'm overly gaudy.

Short is this pain but long is the ornament,
until I see the path to winning this life-long tournament.

No longer numb am I, yet still caught in a gasp.
New knowledge instilled that ferociously connected the dots, and at long last filled in the gaps.
I calibrate and exuberate when I bring my new level,
these girls look me in my eyes and lie to me they can't push the right pedal.

I wish I knew a girl true to the heart and not after an agenda,
a real love rather than the alternative such as Splenda.

When will I learn this love is practically unattainable in this crazy world, especially in this globalized Computerworld.

Call me pessimistic or just down right ugly,
or maybe I'm just roughly stubbly part of this muggy money.

I wish we were utopian and part of simpler times,
but this is unreasonable and not realistic as we live in lifetimes of nonstop wartimes.
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.
The mountains around reinvigorating life, the kaleidoscope of nature initiating a sheathed knife.

The beauty perplexing the greatest of mind, too often blind to the undefined and unrefined.

Taking a second to be in awe, the beauty of it all, the beauty of absolute organic law.
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.
Living in a world with no honest leader.
Every single day comes a new victor,
using the people's heart to paint the picture of fear.

When will we escape the rampant greed running amuck?
Become our own leaders and stop giving a ****.

When asked questions like these, the defenders only have a mouthful.
The reins of power should be in the hands of the masses,
known as the powerful.

They shake at night with terrors of their past.
They finally understand they have worn a fake mask.

When will we stop eating from a government feeder?
Finally equalize and balance the power teeter.
We must, living in a world with no honest leader.
Pinnacle moments pass us by quickly and sharply.
Cynical thoughts control the fear marking out goals in Sharpie.

Mental games of why do I deserve such pain, even partly,
and coinciding emotions of loss amongst those not even as lovely, I finally feel this pain heartily.

One bad decision, one bad night, one terrible choice is the only ignition that was needed to begin the arson.
My apology was weak and imitated the sincerity of a disgruntled garçon, still in disbelief that my train of thought was easily that of a *****.

Love is a fickle sport we play and the secret formula is still out of my reach.
I will metamorphize into the one who is cracking the glass towards the anticipatory breach.
A lesson you subconsciously teach and I see that not all past stains can be cleaned with even the most powerful bleach.

I now know how I hurt you with my actions and eternal contract breach, like Richard Nixon I deserve the death penalty charge of being impeached, making you now just out of reach.

All I can say is sorry for all I have done, I love you, but I guess it's just a figure of speech.
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.
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.
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.
I've been on the low.

I've been taking my time,
I feel like I'm out of my mind,
It feels like my life could never be mine.

I don't wanna be alive
and let me tell you why.

All the **** speaking happening and presently occurring, as those same culprits pop up in my head as if I'm memorizing.

I've been praying for somebody to save me, but no one's heroic.
My life doesn't even matter, I know it, I know it...or at least I tell my myself that.

I'm hurting deep down but why can’t I show it?
I never had a place to call my own.
I never had a home, ain't nobody callin' my phone.

Where have you been? Where you at? What's on your mind?
They say every life precious but nobody cares about mine.

I've been on the low.
I've been taking my time.
I feel like I'm out of my mind.
It feels like my life ain't mine.
Who can relate?

-- Alex Wilson, 2017
What does it take to feel alive?

The hug of a mother? The pull of a trigger? A new high to desire?

The social networking of this world has lost its true form and art. The mouth is not for lying rather for cleansing.

Honesty is a form of quenching.

You'll never lose the people and things that truly matter, those are the artifacts and tools to feel alive. Life itself.
Caught in-between a hard problem and a tragedy,
one which all thoughts conceive a calumny.

False religious declarations brought hope, a preconceived act, with all past failures examined and attacked, like a quasi-contract.

How can infinite knowledge and power create such hate, terror, and pain, similar to a suicide pact?

How does one find their own avenue? Without being stuck in the heart with a corkscrew?

Is personal discovery extinct? Do we forget the past, subconsciously ensure the failures of our future, and presently live with no imprint?

Is individuality impossible?

The characteristics are defined and distinct, but each soul's technique is quietly fluttering away from this lost mystique.

Discover the reality of you, rise up, revolt, and fight the deceitful greed and promised happiness brewed in realities poisonous stew, as it's faithful traits of trust, love, and care that create our optimistic views.

To be happy; an outdated phrase soon to be extinct.

When the downfall of morality can unfold in a blink, as we subconsciously conjure a future drearily bleak.
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.
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 that too tough?
Life is but a fickle and fragile game,
constant pain and pressure create inner ill fame.

As we watch time pass like droplets upon a window frame, we are suddenly awoken by an extinguished flame.

Shock, despair, devastation now all we imagine and watch in full frame, we see no hope and want something to blame.

Their is never anything to blame or claim.

It is just time passing through and through, the inexplicably untamed. Untamed life. Seconds away from the afterlife.
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.
Chattering boxes are but the brain at work, with dreary thoughts doing the consistent work.

Laughable laughs come out as bold lies, as the true core we barely adore slowly dies.

With true words never being spoken, will the dark spell of the fraudulent counterfeits ever be broken?

The world is now digital and synthetic, and the almighty aesthetic is now genetic.
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