They told me to Let it go... And...
I Found that I have nothing there to let go...
Still searching for that song that to be sang!
Still looking for that life to be lived!
Still aiming to reach the beat that shows I'm alive!

I'm wondering If.... there are answers to those questions;

Are dues still not yet paid?
Are sins not yet repented?
Are wounds not yet healed?
Am I still having a human's heart?
Am I still holding that soul which will guide me?
Am I still pure?

When our bodies have the same rhythm,
and our mind sings the same song
Then...
why do our hearts beat so differently?

The poor boy
Had his heart
Taken away from him
His mother
Didn't approve
His lover
Wasn't his
She taunted him
His mother
Would beat him
"Brat!"
She called him
His not-his lover
Would cheat him
Of happiness
"****!"
She called him
Til he fell onto his knees
And wept
And said
"I can't take this anymore"

I haven’t quite
Decided
Wether these veins that web my heart
Are roots
Or fault lines,
But I’m starting to believe-
That maybe
They can exist
As both.

The jester walks the garden path,
Carrying the gullible in his boots,
The jester walks the garden path,
He makes them late as he commutes

He star jumps gleefully into the road,
The traffic comes he sees a chance,
He star jumps gleefully into the road,
For everyone to witness his deadly dance,

But they laugh and laugh and say he's them,
But he's not them for he is him,
He knows only a culture of owning,
A culture of convenience above knowing,
A world of gold and broken seams,
One where laughs distract from extremes,
He knows not empathy, or love or service,
Only a selfish desire to hold office

He knows not the energy he steals,
From those who pass it to him through laughs,
Those who have everything pulled from their heels,
While the jester stands and points at the giraffes.