I'm lost, in a labyrinth of twists and stalemates,
Adrift on a raft of sticks, spit, and namesakes,
Gripping the helm with white knuckles and splintered wrists,
Abandon ship from one blistered fingertip,

A treasure map scrawled to waylay my steps,
"Eighteen, get a degree, take 10 paces, left,"
Wait with bated breath, just for a vacated chest,
Wish the masters would stop clocks; playing chess.

The guy in these picture frames is roulette,
Dropped from black to red, two cents, bootleg,
Counterfeit, forgery, patented blown potential,
An outline traced with a broken pencil,

A crooked nib and a handful of ink stains,
Splotched paper with the brand of this kid's name,
Crinkled and torn up, soon to be ash in a bucket,
Tossed to the corner, overflowing the stack of a hundred.

I got different copies
for different stars
for the only Moon in the sky.

Some of us are just carbon copies
of others wanting
              to be other than ourselves.

We should embrace our individuality,
or become stale,
                   weaker copies of another.

I am from the hills
from a place where all you can see and smell are pine trees
I am from nowhere yet somewhere
from the yellow grass that flows with the wind.
I am from the bobcat growls and owl hoots
from deer prancing across the open fields.
I am from scorching summer heat
from the cold winter blizzards
with which I remember the heat of the fire
warding me from the evil chill.

I am from old movies and music
from action figures and Legos.
I am from the nerd brigade
from the straight-A club.
I am from a place where knowledge is power
and power is everything
From deja vu and nightmares
from which my mind is scared and perplexed.

I am from the teachings given by Master Yoda
“Fear is the path to the dark side
fear leads to anger,
anger leads to hate,
hate leads to suffering.”
and the advice given by Mace Windu
“Be mindful of your feelings”
from all those friends who also helped me along

In my room was Star Wars everywhere
With Han Solo on the dresser, away from the Millenium Falcon.
With Yoda on the computer desk, giving wisdom to all who work.
With young Anakin on the bookshelf, dreaming of his future.
I am from those moments
to which I want to forget.
Painful, memories are.

How they fake
How they copy
How they fear
How they dream scared dreams in tears.

How they drink from bored mugs
How they live like slugs
How they make money cigarettes
How they pray for money bags

How they crave recognition
How they bend for the system
How they brag ignorance
How they weep romance

How they shove it up their *****
How they're continuously embarrassed
How they play the game
How they never blame

How they praise intuition
How they preach superstition
How they form their private cliques
How they corporate religion´

Will this joke ever end?
Sorry, no, I will not bend.