Maybe I saw it wrong.
Maybe it was a mistake.
But our time dies when you said hello, you said.
Basis is complex, it is,
But valid all the same.
For when we fought against narrative,
Which... it never went further.
A simple convention that
Has made me worry so.
You truly understand,
No, you never will.
This is how we are:
Soulless saints.
Awkward for others
Whilst we are oblivious to their chains,
And now it has ended,
Of course, with a hello.
For once we responded as
Expected, all that time ago,
We ended our connection
By smothering it in light.
I tend to think too much,
So rather ignore my statements
And idealise me as you wish,
For it will never be
The same; not that it
Ever truly was.
I hope I had an effect
And maybe every time
You come across a
Misunderstanding
You will remember me.

To act upon coincidence is benign.
Friday the Thirteenth has come and alone.
Who knew that it would be a din?
Not I, as I was thoroughly blind.

Ambushed on the day by a con
And a priest. One asked for money
And the other spoke as I was his son,
Amongst rejection. It was not fun.

Followed by rudeness and tension,
My house was ablaze.
Siblings and parents considered with great revulsion.
Here it shows again, minute titillation.

Sunday, a shame, a fight with a friend.
Imbroglio and irate, words of our time.
A slip of the dead tongue brought our joke to an end.
Confused, angered, sad, love, it is all that it could send.

Here lies the superstition, a mere dry bone.
I would have laughed, but it brought no amusement.
Conclusion: depressed. Sent me into a craze
And all that was left was this mental, social, indifferent slime

Look at the situation thus
We have appeared from out of a shell at dusk
Enjoy the twilight
As we seek the night and
We are not prone to turning to dust

Seek all those grandiose remarks
We manufacture them as the dog barks
Take them, cherish them
You will never guess from whence they stem
A distraction is called. O, the larks.

We spun our way around your blood.
Twisting and turning, creating an aqueduct.
Apparent to be in control.
Illusory, such as a verspertine stroll.
Although we created a cliché: your mind was dragged through the mud.

Bless you! Out, Satan out!
The demon has been removed from your snout.
Her allure lies in your head.
Let her enter, and we will not appear so dead.
Thus, stable and strained for now. Though, we will refrain for more than a bout.

Yes, child, we are still here and you are still a child.
For a moment, we successfully made you wild.
Still, this game digresses.
Rules are still the same, even as she undresses.
This dawn will pass, and our number redialled.

Sleep flirts like an amorous woman,
Defined by her ****** concern
My subconscious flutters by,
Momentarily catching my eye.
And transported to an unknown cushion.

There I see sights I disagree.
Some familiar, others unexpected to a large degree.
One I do not know.
It came from somewhere deep and low.
Now arisen, I watch and see.

A concept my intelligence abhors.
Yet, my emotion concurs.
Contradiction that I should fight.
My emotion fights back, with vigilant might.
There I lie. The body stirs.

“King, King,” shout the mind.
“I am Queen,” shout emotion, “and shall not bind.”
The Queen outmoves the King.
A great, for me, sting.
In my eyes, this Queen is not kind.

You have flummoxed my essence
And have brought a strange presence.
This is madness,
Surrounded by sadness.
Truth is thus: I mourned your absence.

Maybe because we are the youngs,
We believe we are entitled to tongues.
That we shall be heard,
To you it is absurd.
Like the beetle, you roll the dung.

You think us silly children,
Yet inside lies the cauldron
That shouts the time of the youth.
Forsaken by the booth,
We begin our costly sojourn.

Our eyes reveal our mind ambitious.
Your eyes see through silicasacious
Perception of a generation passed.
Culture imposed in the manner of caste.
I condemn you to be philosophically abstemious

It is directly simple, comrade
We have jumped from the time balustrade
You a little early,
Us, a little burly
Yet, it was all meant for a crusade

This is an adage for thinkers
To ensure we and you never wear the blinkers.
This is my warning,
To stay awake until morning
Remember that we eventually rest with clinkers.

I see things through
Astigmatic eyes.
These peas percolate
But exhaust our supplies.
If you blink I will see,
The energy of light dies.

So, as I consider the atrocities
Of my mind.
Release the emotions
That bind.
Maybe through your character
You will be kind.

There is no thought to
My reasoning,
And our link is something that
Needs questioning,
It will allow possibilities that are
Always repositioning.

I do not know my feeling
Or emotion.
You do not show any knowledge
Of internal commotion.
We will not bow down to the social
Concentration.

Remember your idealism of humanity,
If I become uncouth.
It is because I am unstable at times
Of tongue and tooth.
You are the only one that disallows
My smooth.

The deep throes of your
Smile
Lie within my eyes.
I pause to pause-
To watch you as you
Saunter.
Merely out of recognition,
You came to me.
We walk, we part,
Never changed,
Merely altered.
I long for the time
Of infatuation.
It is passed.
Now, I desire
You.
Think I will caress
Your Heart? Mind?
Soul?
I hope so.
Within my eyes
Lies your smile.
My eyes.
Your smile.
If only they could
Walk
And never
Part.