Anyhow you will learn With time If you understand What is not said
Your personal wisdom Is not Written in most read books No need To join renouned universities You will not learn it From the noble teachers It may not have many audiences It is strictly customized Just for you
You will learn it from The Pretenders The Traitors The Failures The Haters The Actors When you wake up
And when I say I once was stupid
Genre: Observational Theme: Questioning Author's Note: Something out of nothing. All the questions are born out of the answers, we already have.
Ink blots impossible knots testing the limits of a circular drive one hand on the wheel the other copping a feel of his passenger mate dutifully nursing her neonate foot goes down to apply the break fracturing fingers is what it will take to lessen the voice avoid the slade move the mountain tell me, don't floaters eventually get flushed?
Beware...there are deceivers among us, hopping from one profile to the next. These types are not so interested in poetry as they are with messing with the ladies here. Please be careful.
Note: not all those with multiple profiles are deceivers. In fact, most are not. But there are a few here with ulterior motives.
I laid down motionless with memories of me Frozen as Everest recounting the dark Foggy lights and the brightest darkness Shadowed the clear path of my being Crooked the road of life I saw Winding through the river course The cold snow seared my open skin In the sun my bones chilled the lowest degree Deception threw its towel at me I caught it with revived naivety And wiped my sweat not knowing the test Temptation clouded my brightest morn I saw ahead but failed to look Ambiguous warmth run through my blood As I received countless unsolicited visits One hundred times a day From the compulsory lesson-devils of life While I beckoned them to tarry awhile They marched in with their next of kin Teaching me one lesson or two To look well whenever I see And listen better when I hear
Life teaches so many lessons. Deception is all over. It pays to be alert
Lines and lines, druggy times. Bleeding nostrils and racing thoughts. Fast heart beats and feeling distraught. Alert and awake, thoughts are chasing me in a maze. I've lost it, I'm back on the powder.
They call me Kat, because my spirit animal is one of a cat like creature, and my drug of choice. Fierce, sneaky, stealthy, and mischievous. Kat is my name, one of many different personalities. Freaky is her demeanor.
Wired and full of energy, mind is coming down, muscle spasms are happening. I need to sleep, 2 in the morning and I'm writing forbidden thoughts. Dreams that are nightmares that aren't stopping, I have no hold.
Will it ever stop? Control before it becomes an addiction. Hold, or the demons will rain, toxic tears to my waking existence.