Youthful exuberance never grows old; I suppose, until the creeping ivy cradles your gravestone.

This life; to me, is a passing train that always makes its way back around. Just not for you.

Every stop lets off the lost and picks up a child; weary, on their first day of school.

The hero in my mind rides, toward the destiny where he dies.

The wink inside his smile; resigned, for one more longing look up at the deep blue ocean canvas, where he penned the story of his life.

In his fading grin, he whispers one last nothing to wind. A cool breeze carrying his freedom. The silence, his last season.

I sit on the seat of a silent hill, watching hope stripped bare
Like tender flesh ripped from the bone. Where do I go from here?
The words in this world, are poisoned with pain.
Even the ink on this wrinkled page decays, like
Receding waterways that turn rivers
Into mass graves. Every frontier turns to a last bastion.
No decadence can dress the dead. Sunken souls
Weighed down by boots of lead. Work and worship.
Open plains become a purgatory for the horseless.

I was just writing about you,
So it feels like I just saw you
It's been years, I know
But when I think about you
Remember our better days
It doesn’t seem like forever
I often talk to you
Late at night in the dark
You had better places to be
At least that’s what I tell myself
So you don’t seem so far away
Pretend you’ll be here tomorrow
To forget that you’re long gone
When I share our memories
I make you out to be the hero
Because that’s what you were to me
Maybe you know, or you never will
I just hope you’re okay with it.

O brother, tell us where you've been!
What is the world like beyond these trenches?

Is it safe to crawl out —
we heard the wolves were just 'were-' with a sweet tooth.
Won't you help us sniff out the lotus from the roses,
their thorns so cleverly hidden…

Sisters, we're tired of hiding in the dark,
our eyelids shut by the nurse's damp cloth;

To our champions: were you blessed in your travails?
Did you find the loving,
the caring,
the fabled Happy People that
Nashville balladeers croon about?

brave children, remember to return;
we dreamed of setting foot in a place of our own, too.
does one exist in their world ||

// NOT THEIR WORLD
NOT OURS EITHER
BUT ALL OF OUR
UNIVERSE //

I grew up on heroes old and new
Thinking there was no wrong they could do
But get rid of rose glasses and they're the worst
And I woke up to a clergy that turned. out to be cursed
Now I can't trust people I see
On the internet or TV
Because half of my childhood celebrities
Turned out to be pedos, grifters, and Nazis

Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Send them off with a ******* up
And hope next time you have better luck

Can't trust the storytellers that made your fantasies
They want you and queers like you deceased
Can't play pretend in a superheroes game
When all the directors fund your personal bane
I wouldn't trust the beliefs that raised me
Because I've grown old enough to peek and see
That its foundations are corrupted by empire
One more genocide and I'll set the **** pulpit on fire

Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Push them away from who you see
And rethink all those memories

I once trusted some political heads
Thinking they had good interests in their stead
But red or blue they all bomb and starve and censor
Now I have to try to get my own beliefs and center
I blindly trusted the medical process
Until I saw prejudice and the reproducibility crisis
I blindly followed the worship of success and riches
Until I saw the dead that world left in the ditches

Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Shoot them yourself if that's what you need
Because how else can you move on and succeed

History was taught to me in one way
Every account matching up to the day
But I looked back and saw a library
Of stories the classroom never did see
The people who raised me said they were saints
And that's the picture their friends all paint
But get home at night and you'll find out
What the kids don't know to talk about

Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Never look back for a second glance
Don't give the ******* another chance

Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Because if power corrupts and they're infested
Don't reminisce long enough to get invested

Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Throw down your celebrities and your idols
Be your own hero and disregard titles

I was going to write a poem,
Something witty, something fun,
But instead the words pop in my head,
About a Soldier and his gun.

I think about the wars of old,
And the wars still yet to come.
No difference in the way they feel,
A soldier and his gun.

So many battles won, some not
Each one with Soldiers lost,
They fight for king and country,
Without clear thought of cost.

And though the tragic loss of life,
Weighs heavy on my heart,
Without them, life would ever change,
With freedom torn apart.

So many soldiers lose their lives,
This knowledge, saddens me.
Those that survive, should walk with pride,
All thanks to you, I'm free!

With this, I write my words of thanks,
This poem's almost done!
I simply give my gratitude,
To each Soldier and his gun.

No one ever told
me that I was the villain
of my own story

7:42 AM
18/9/20