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I have grown tired of this place;
In a country
That changes it’s exterior
But it’s interior
Remains rotten and corrupt
Were people care more
About the image they portray
And
The money in their pockets
Rather than
Their own self-growth

I have come to hate this place;
Of people that hold you close
Just for their own benefit
And friendships that mean nothing
And talk and talk and talk
And action being taken
Only
When the spotlight is on them

I am exhausted;
Of dealing with this *******
Of an immature population
That refuses to grow
Or change
Or improve
Or make better
Than their ancestors
Instead
They dig and dig and dig their holes
Deeper and deeper

Now, I find myself unable
To contain my excitement or rage
When I think about leaving
About a new beginning
A complete fresh start
Were, hopefully
Things are better
Than here
I remember a time
when friends were more honest
and none carried daggers
or knives to stab
opinions said and compromises  reached
and the future was so distant,
so bleak

But we started to grow
and realised that,
out there,
there's a lot
we don't know
we had to be loud
to make out voices heard
we started to argue
to compete for who's better
and as long as our name
is mentioned
we didn't care about the rest

We cared more about praise
and being told we've done a
good job
and with fame came power
with power comes a mob
and the ego;
cause how dare you call us
slobs
when we have proven
we're better
superior!

How boring
to wage a war over
such nuances
that lead to disagreements
and such oppressive judgements
of those with
everything to lose
vs.
nothing to gain
of those who's
voices are loud, but their minds empty
vs.
silent voices but chaotic minds-
- of those who have learnt the price
of knowledge, gifts, power
vs.
of those who hunger for it
with lustful vengeance
to rub in peoples faces
to bend them to kiss the very ground
they walk on!

Pity these simple fools
who have not learnt their lessons.

Pray they learn empathy
for other more than themselves
as they'll ***** out the fires of those
who are built differently than them.

Message their egos, gently but firmly
so they'll learn self-control
and no let their goes
overlap other's boundaries;
for it's in their nature
to consume for their own gain

Show them vulnerability
and that to error is purely human
for they believe they are gods
walking across the land

And most of all
give them love
no;
show they love
for deep down
such gods are
broken, vulnerable and neglected
believed to be cursed to walk
with bleeding wounds that
do not heal
fr they were never showed how,
held of cradled
because affection is willingly given

But to them
it never was.
I have returned home
My time away; almost
A year of travels
Has finally come to an end
And it has been quite the eventful adventure;
I have been
Poor
Broken
Abandoned
Sober
Hungry
Tired
Exhausted and at times
Found it difficult to stand tall

But alas, now
I am home
And all that changed, but
All still looks similar
Some areas have aged
And other, well
Have disappeared completely
From this so-called ‘development’
Even my castle has changed
To accommodate for more
Modern uses

And there sits my throne
Bare, covered in dirt, dust and cobwebs
Abandoned; the poor thing
Moved into the attic
Out of the way of daily viewing
That would being soreness to many hearts
(at least I hope it would have)
A piece of furniture now
That has lost it’s significance
From it’s sheer lack of use

But I will move it
Back into place
For the weight of this throne
Is mine alone to bear and
It is heavy
For both I’s weight and significance
Echo across the halls;
To think that I would come home
And already be weighed down by these responsibilities
What price such power has on one’s body;
The responsibilities of the many
For the sacrifices of one

And I think
And think
And think
As I pull, lift and drag
This chair of mine
Up and resting it
On those 5 steps
With the sun now shining behind;
Am I doing the right thing?
Have these travels made me more suitable?
Am I wiser than the mistakes of my father?
Has all this been in vain?

I do not feel ready to rule
I do not think I am the most suited
But the whisper I hear
Of the things happening behind closed doors
Secret passages and mysterious dealings
No no, I must return
For all this is mine
And I will not
I cannot
Stand by while all turns to rubble

This chair
From this char, which
Has now been quickly cleaned and dusted
And I rest now on it, I will make right
The wrongs of my year of abandonment

The cushioning becomes absorbent and comfortable
Because power does feel good

The king is home
And he said he would be
Now come, pay your respects;
Kneel before me

For I was once one like you
You will never be good enough
But you will be expected
To still try your best

You are always perceived as incapable
But you are still expected
To keep up with the rest

You will always be nothing
But when you’re in social circles
You must always appear to be something

You will never have time
But you are expected
To always, somehow, make time

You will always bring shame
And you are wasting your time
To gain someone’s esteem/approval

You will always be a mistake
But the universe is never balanced
And perfection is an illusion

Your depression will always haunt you
The grey cloud hangs at a constant
But optimism will shine through

Your anxiety will always hold you back
But it is wrong and you know this;
It’s simply a question of belief

You can never trust anyone
But saying this brings disbelief
For you know the truth

They will try to manipulate you
To break you to their will;
But you can destroy your oppressors

You will never be rich
Always crawling from scraps off the table
But wealth comes in many forms

This exhaustion will never leave
And in time, it’ll get worse
But your abilities’ vigorous strength will prevail

You will always be needy
For after all, you’re only human
And prosperity is our collective right

They will project things onto you
Because they are too weak themselves;
Don’t forget your true self

Once given, you will always be an addict
For they don’t know the struggle and only judge
Don’t detract them; their biases lack reason

They’ll always call you a monster
Lazy humans desperately cling to the past;
They forget that the worst monsters are humans

Your expectations will always be shattered
The mind’s perfection is hard to overcome
But impossibility is much more enjoyable

Your gifts will be used and abused
For some fear natural talent
It will hurt; but also inspire

You will be loved conditionally
As long as you do, act and say what’s expected;
Show them indifference, not animosity

They will criticize you
On every little detail that make you you
But their approval shouldn’t concern you

You will be a disappointment
Because you don’t live by their rules
But your achievements are all for you

They will demand your respect
Because their titles are their only power
But don’t fall onto their bad manners

The intolerant will be racist
For fearing is easier than understanding;
Such biases should be meet with tolerance

They will compete against you
For some, being the best is more important
But there is harmony in sympathetic surrender

You will feel angry
Because life isn’t fair for us all;
There is delight in calmest simplicity

They will always want to be right
Because how dare you know more than me
They lead to immorality; the belief they are never wrong

They will tell you their opinion
And talk down to you in the process
Because only the weak try to rule the strong
Everything these days
Is replaceable
It still works
But it easily made obsolete
And it hurts, for
We are only human
Not objects to be set free
Floating across the currents of the sea

Replaceable
Interchangeably so
As the current flows
And slowly drags you from shore;
They have let you go
You have been used
And now
What use is there
To cry about it?

If only
We were less organic
And more carbon-based
Programatically built
We’d understand that
Some pieces can’t be changed
Or rebuilt;
You can’t force to fit
That which won’t -
Well, you can
But it is cumbersome
And slow
Not even the next update
Will help you now

Because humans are lazy
Just look at your people
The world burns
The sea rises
Storms get stronger
And summers hotter
Those with a voice
The fire to fight back
Are praised
Ridiculed
And place high on pedestals
While the rest stay put
Solidly believing
‘that someone else will do it’

But neither side will talk
Instead of words
We drop insults and bombs
Or better yet
Become spectators of your on
annihilation;
What constipation must be
In place to stagnate this
Progress, to fall over your own feet
When everyone else seams
To be able to keep a beat
You trip and stumble
Because the carpet
Has been pulled from under
your feet

And you weep
And weep
And weep
In hopes that someone
Will sync to your beat
But we live in a capitalist society
Were if you don’t fall in line
You become obsolete!

For we all love the struggle
Everyone loves the ‘hot mess’
‘deranged’, ‘crazy’ -
Those people who drive you
To the point of insanity
Who feel to much
But say very little
Who’s sky is always grey
And beg for a break of sunshine
The dependable
The patient
The waiting; ready to listen
But never to criticize
Or employ their beliefs or biases
Onto already broken souls
Who’s services are given freely
Willingly, emphatically
Draining their own energy daily
Just for you to break a smile
…..maybe?

But I guess
That is my life.
We can’t all have
Happy endings for free
Not all of us
Thankfully
Are like you or me
The truth won’t set you free
For not all of us can handle
That now your physical form
Is no longer craved
But has been replaced
By images on a mantle;
The projection of what people
Expected to see

And you question
Who no-one knows me
And how, just how
Could they replace
Me?
I am tired
Of constantly
Waking up tired
Too scared to produce
Any of my arts
Because I won’t be admired;
Fireflies are drawn to the light
For it’s warmth and brightness
But a succubus
Will **** this warmth dry
Just as you have, for
So many years
And believing you
As my body stiffens from
All these toxins

I’m sick of fighting
Against people, for people
Pointless wars
Soiling my cloths with mud for those
Who would never do the same for me
If not haven’t done that already
To leave me here
Burnt to a crisp under the sun
With blisters on my feet
Soiled with mud and sooth
Dried and cracking, weighing me down
And to think
I thought I’d find freedom by now
Or some means of
What the **** is my calling
Or what I’m going to do;
And yet, I still wield
The greatest weapon in existence;
Art

I have never belong anywhere
No, I don’t want you to pity me
How does that help?
‘oh, you poor boy’
Only to quickly turn your back
At a moments notice
When **** hits the fan
But I guess that’s life
That’s growing up
When things get though
We all get going
Because that’s how we see ourselves;
‘growing’
By putting your head down
And dragging through
Life’s mud
Because we were once
Stupid enough to believe
That this was the only way
So instead of changing
Our methods or perspectives
We keep our heads down
And become
Another brick in the wall

And I hope you all keep doing it
Because if you’d lift your head
Wipe off the muck and look around you
To see all the distraction from the war;
Dismembered bodies
Cavernous holes
The horrible mix
Of red, brown and green
You’d break-down, cry
And pray
You’d still have one in the chamber

Or, if you’re unlucky
You don’t have one
And you watch
Over and over and over
New horrors around the bends;
Even nature doesn’t survive
Through so much death
Your allies are gone;
As in vaporized
By the sheer force of your own doing
Believing you were fighting the good fight
But completely forgetting about friendly fire
Even as you chuckled and admired
The enemies whole-hearted attempts to
Fight back, defend themselves
But you dismissed them
With just a click of your fingers;
How stupid war is
To devalue life to
Medals and achievements
Reducing the full worth of an individual
To nothing more than a medal
To believe you are superior
But giving the other
No value at all - at least racism is direct

So come at me bare
I dare you
Because I’m done with this war
I’m done losing, I’m done being
Stuck in this cavernous loop
This disk that keeps
Turning and turning
Always in a loop, but never a straight line
In reality, it’s fine because
Even the wheels on the bus
Go round and round;
But at least they get somewhere
Are going places
And when faced with displacement
I have no-where to go;
I’ve never had anywhere to go
But the corridors of my own little palace
Where I am King
And it’s now
Quite boring
And in turn, I have become
boring

So drop me then
Like a dead weight
Just another corpse that will
Never get a proper burial,
Just like the hundreds and thousands
Who’ve had the same treatment over the years
Honestly, I’m fine with it
Because I know the weight and power of
Guilt, regret and grief
How the vision of my corpse
Will haunt your dreams
And every waking moment
For even God remembers the man
Who one made him
Bleed

Unfortunately,
It was
himself
I am dying
(big whoop
Everyone is)
No no,
You don’t understand
I
Am
Dying
(once again, big whoop)

Doesn’t seam to matter
Any of the words I say
No matter how much I shout or scream
Everyone stays at bay
Because ‘your moods
Make you so unapproachable
My son’
That’s not the most
Supportive thing family
Can say
But they’ve told me worse
My favourite one was ‘monster’
And that’s the one
I mostly
Relate to


Stay caged
Because the outside world
Is so unforgiving;
People remember your mistakes
More than the good times shared
People just like seeing you
Ground down
Protecting themselves
Behind fake ‘happy’ smiles
Over- inflamed egos and *******
They don’t have the ***** to say
Or talk about
Relatable, though never understandable
I mean
Not even these words make sense
Any-more

Enough
I am dying
From a disease you’ll never see
Because I’ve been wise
No,
Cunning
Enough to not be in the system that long
Or dumb enough
To think that I can win on my own
And I mange, or rather
I use to manage
Till it gets too much
And all I’ve worked so hard
To be able to stand up daily
Crumbles beneath me
Though, frankly
I had others
Once
But they don’t last;
No one will sacrifice
Their God-given time or energy
To help you pick yourself up
When they’re already moving
- so many suicides
Could have been prevented
Through understanding and communication;
Basic human functions and needs
But no, lets not talk
Lets drown our emotions
With some ****

So I slowly erode
Daily
Down into this black abyss
I don’t want to take my own life
But if I must
I hope I don’t miss
Any of the vitals;
And I pray I go quick
Because this sickness
Immobilises me
I mean
Most of you know I’m weird
A ****** up nerd
With a messed up perspective on life
A history written in
Beatings, tears, insults, pain, broken promises
And blood; so much blood
Because that’s all this disease allows me
To remember; my past
Is nothing but a big, empty dark room
Were light is there for a flicker
Before it is snuffed out
Tortured by memories
I’ve begged countless times not to remember
The older I get now
The more things hurt
I yearn for stability
When nothing is set in stone

And as strong as I am
It eventually gets to me too
I cycle
Between being weak
Or strong
But I have grown tired;
I have forgotten
That life is suppose to be fun
Just no one wants to have fun
No one stays when things get hard
No one tries to understand
No one fights for anyone
We’ve devalued everything
Every single thing
That makes life fun, magical
Worth experiencing and living
Because it’s so easy
To give into those dark thoughts
And lock yourself up in that dark room
Where it’s all nice and warm
But so very lonely
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