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Jeremy Betts Apr 2
If I were to slip and fall
Relinquishing the saddle
Once and for all
A clear sign of a lost battle
Would they lie just a little
Pretending it's a riddle?
Would I be Jeremy still
Or just the latest ashes on a relatives mantle
Unable to get a grip on a life with no handle
Forced into being a monkey in the middle
Avoiding the ferry man becomes a new struggle
Will I hear a verdict from a god or a devil?
Or choose for 'em, trying to make it all simple
Thanks too the highway install
And despite all the people
It's far quicker to stroll into hell
And the toll is only one soul

©2024
Jeremy Betts Feb 2
I'm forced to dam the tears
A practice made perfect through the rough years
Not because I don't care
Not because I can't care
Not because I don't want you to know they're always right there
But because if I let them begin to pour
I can't convince myself I could stop them anymore
There's a nonzero chance I could be crying for years
Long past the pain and far beyond the fears
So I **** the tears

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jan 30
My thoughts
They can get scary
It's threats, more often than not, not empty
It's hard to convey what they say
They whisper a fray of cliche self hate with 41 years to work it's way to this level of decay
It's all consuming, engulfing then removing positivity 'til it's so scarce I'm left to pretend mostly
A sparse landscape of depravity naturally
Clear cut to make way for the fear factory
The soul fractures, now solely fear so to ward off lonely I let it stay
Not knowing how to play
Leaves me in the dark on what's at play

My thoughts
They aren't worth a penny
My two cents is free
I'd pay you to take them all completely
Is there a chance it gets messy?
Abso-freakin-lutely
But oh what a hero you could be
Imagine it up on a marquee, shining brightly
"Some dumb fuuck, a heros story"
(A family movie)
I'll be the monkey in the middle, come meet me
Come greet me and see purgatory, my state of temporary suffering and predetermined misery
What I'm forced to portray is only done cause I must obey or pay some ******* up penalty
Knowing I am the game and the prey, feeding a self-righteous gluttony
How much more do you want from me?
How much more must I contort for thee?

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jan 21
I'll have nothing if I lose her
If I stay I'll lose myself
So I'm forced to ask myself
What is the better future?

©2024
Jeremy Betts Jan 3
...the melting ice shifts and strikes a familiar tone against the glass tumbler, abruptly snapping me back to my actuality
It pains me to call it reality but I'm forced to do so untill I change what I see or my surroundings change me
Both options frighten me...

©2024
Jeremy Betts Sep 2022
We have more in common than you might think, from way back when, we've all been a slave to the system
This isn't some All Life's Matter nonsense to gum up progress, it's just an explanation of the MO of our nation
It went from skin to the dollar amount you bring in, it's my history too, no appropriation
How is it that I don't fit in being that I'm part Native American, must be the other part of me that's an Irish man

They stole you then stoud you and demand you comply to tilling stolen soil using the same regurgitated lie
You were forced to work, we were forced to die, you deserve reperations but unironically so do I
You look at me and just see another white guy, I'm a perfect example that history can't always be seen by the naked eye
Never forget the why, we're being forced to hide the cry as they rush to rewrite themselves as the good guy

Sectioned off ghetto and reservations put in place for the preservation of the notion only the white survive and thrive
Every second of our life the truths been uncovered and streamed live, no need for a deep dive
But they still claim to be blind to the red stained streets from this perverse and nonconsentual mass blood drive
Their stories never jive but the hive mentality rules, allowing bigotry and hate to always revive

I want to Hulk out, often feel I'm about too, but what's that gonna do, it'll only prove we're as savage as they say
They are waiting for the avalanche to fall any day so they can justify putting us away, barking at us to just sit and stay
Is there another way, how can we drag this from out the shadows and into the light when there's only perpetual grey
Allowin' us to say what we gotta say hoping then we'll go away, how many marters will it take before we're no longer prey?

Question charitable blankets, pass on the boat ride, how we suppose to trust when every handshake is a lie certified
A bona-fied villain willin' and able, fully capable of genuine genocide screaming gods on their side
If there is a god and he does come back he better watch his back or run and hide
They lack morals of any kind, replaced with blind pride, he'd undoubtedly be crucified in a fashion not only justified but glorified

I know you can't fight hate with hate, that'll only perpetrate this disastrous fate
But all we hear is wait, the time is never right but always near and once it's here they'll be glad to open the gate
But if we keep rattling the cage they'll have to keep pushing back the date, so we wait
But how much do they think we can actually take? Maybe they're just waiting for us to finally break

©2022
Kris Fireheart Apr 2023
Tired...
My eyes burn,
My lungs ache...
The sun wakes me
Through the
Windows.

Dress myself
Wash my face,
It's time to endure
Another day...

Another rush
At the restaurant,
Put on a smile,
And pretend it's
Okay...

But I can't do this
For much longer,
My longest day
Is Sunday...
I work weekends at my grandmother's restaurant in Houston. She's 71, and puts on a brave face at work, but when she gets home, she needs her cane to walk... so I put on my best smile, help the customers, wash the dishes and say "Can I get that for you, sir?" "Is there anything I can do to help?" But when I get home, all I want to do is collapse onto my couch with my 14 year old Labrador...
only two dancers
remain standing
shuffling
   and swaying
under syncopated lights
held by
an unspoken law
an apparently unavoidable
trait of human nature
that forces them
to continue despite
such terrible choices
of song
and persistence
each was merely
a "friend
   of the bride"
moving in different circles
prior to this
their dancefloor meeting
unfortunately
neither can now
abandon the other
to dance alone
to risk being seen
as the cause
for bringing this
near-sacred ritual
to an end
these residual bodies
left with no choice
but to mirror
each movement
match every sidestep
echo every clap
with rhythm
   or without
it will not matter
so long as this
transient solidarity
of misplaced confidence
and forced smiles
continues into
the next song
cas Dec 2021
Long have gone since that day
I still think ‘til this day
Nightmares may it be,
I suffer, so I plea
The girl whom we killed,
I spit on the ground, to have it live
211216
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