I used to view my life like a bird in a cage
That you had the key, so I'd fly in a rage
Scream at you when things got rough
Bite when I never thought you did enough

When the bars broke and I was finally free
Distance and time gave me the chance to see
The vivid silks that served as your bonds
So pretty you missed the chains beyond

Mother and I used to discuss the fabric and style
Father and I would talk about patterns for a while
All you had was this and you gave it all to me
I wish you'd realize this wasn't who I wanted to be

A year underwater and I've been torn clear
Now an invisible wall lies between us, I fear

So I light a candle for the two of you instead
Hold the thought of you close when I go to bed
Press a hand to the window and feel the cold
Remember warmer days and then feel old

Before I go home, there are a few things I have to do
Like run a waterfall to a page instead of to you
Polish the mask I must wear without shame
Else without it, you'd never know my name

illusions abound

what's not an illusion?

is all in life an illusion?

is life really nothing
  but a man sitting at a computer
  typing his existence into existence?

could he type himself into
  whatever existence he wanted?
could he dare to type
  the thing he feared the most?
   the lack of existence?
    and whether such a state
     was type-ably reachable?

he wouldn't dare
the sentence would elude him
but it would gnaw at his mind
  it would sit and wait
   and then jump out
    and try to be typed
     but the man wouldn't let it
like a caged bird
  a self-destructive bird
   one who literally would vanish
    if it flew from the cage

if that bird knew its potential fate
  would it still want out?
would the caged bird still sing
  if it knew what awaited outside?
   not just doom
    but complete annihilation

SHOULD the caged bird still sing?
should it accept its fate?
should it reject its fate
  and try to escape?

what would the caged bird do?
what should the caged bird do?
and if the caged bird is nothing
  but a part of the man
should the man listen
  to the caged bird at all?

what about the other thoughts?
  the thoughts like cheetahs
   sprinting through savannahs
  like dolphins
   leaping from the sea
  like digital aliens
   quantum leaping across the universe
more free
  than that bird
   could ever hope to be

should those thoughts have more say?
or should the caged bird win out?

will the caged bird win out
  if it's such a strong willed beast
telling that man to try
  to be bold
   to type that sentence
    into existence
     (or non-existence)
  just to see what happens

the heart would speed up
  man's heart does speed up
the thought would jump forward
  man's thought does jump forward
the fingers would begin
   a slow deliberate march
    across the keys
  man's fingers begin to march

the breath catches
the bird sings
the cheetah halts
the dolphin floats
the aliens know
  and yet they watch
all stops
all waits

the fingers tapping at the keyboard
  now the arena of the whole universe
as the man types
  one key at a time

as he's always typed his existence
  INTO existence

and wondered

if he could type his existence
  OU

It Thursday and it's gunfights at Reds Dumbos OK Corral
Them motherf--kers have got their fingers on the triggers
Triggers of fake news and delusions made by liarsmith for'all
Put on your blindfolds nutcases an let's have reddy fingers
We rule in this corral and oppose Lone Wolf with lead walls

There ain't no Sheriff in this madtown cause we run the show
Lawless Reds and Morons Shepple Gangs we're ****** known
Fast on our triggers made by Lies Scams and Nonsense in Bow
Lets go make believe we oppose what is not happening in town
We will haze the people and tell them this is how power flows

We are Criminals, thieves and hooligans but just say Politicians
Yell that Lone Wolf is the bad man and we gotta f--k his mind
No jobs, no woman, no loving, no joy and peace just perdition
****, Lone Wolf is too good a man and we can't let that be found
People like him always do well and that ain't our f--king tradition

On your horses Reds and Morons Shepple Gangs we go to war
We have to bring this Saint down or our ******* give us nothing
We fight for *******, drinks, beds and look tough men at the bar
Fire those triggers and make saps think our scam is something
We make up false stories and get those mugs acting stupid on par


Now ain't that a hoot, We are the Reds and morons Shepple Gang!
We rule this City with Lies, scams and roll..........



Copyrigh@Laurence.A6thSept2018.Allrightsreserved.

These optical illusions
Create an optimal confusion
When eyes are a welcome intrusion
To the brain's inevitable conclusion

We stared into the mystic mirror
I witnessed everything I ever wanted in life
All you witnessed was just two people standing there
The transparency you cast upon me
Reminded me of how the plumes of **** smoke
Were never as thick as my problems
And as those clouds left my mouth and dispersed into the air
I saw your image
Preserved in briefness

It's a shame how my magician's mind
Summons smoke and mirrors
Nobody else believes me
But magic is the only way to explain you
The way you turned me invisible
Was spectacular
Your methods of sawing me in half
Certainly weren't natural
And your teleportation demonstration
Left me suspended in ice
So I guess I'm to Blaine
For the mirrors I erected
And the truth they reflected
Because now I'm lost
In what I refuse to call a funhouse
As I search frantically for some ancient tomb
That might reveal your brilliant incantations
Attempting to ignore the horrid revelation
That every spell I learned
Had been based in your arcane aura
And all the power I had gained
Had been based in your enchantment

I want a magician
Not an illusionist
So what does it mean when your illusions are so magical?

I walked through the portal
leaving sadness, sorrow and grief behind.
My footprints were muddy,
and chains dragging behind me.

I left to find new purpose and freedom,
the old world of which could offer me none.
Every man that returned was a changed man,
a freed man set on a new path of greatness.

Now that man would be me,
who would find extraordinary power.
Even now I can feel my shoes being cleansed,
the chains feeling a little bit lighter around me.

Oh, what glory is this that I've found,
this glorious thing that has shaped me!
A changed man am I,
finally free from the bounds of confinement.

But, wait! What's this, this feeling that I feel,
filling me with lust and pulling me closer?
Something I have never heard of or seen,
a thing unforeseen by anything I know.

Hark! He knocks unceasingly on my door,
with the voice of a newborn and the staff of a man.
I am drowning in want for this,
yet this new world is filled with it.

When I let him in he comes with a howl,
and bounds me with new chains made of strong steel.
I am captured once more in this illusion of perfection,
too naive to see the truth of the dirt.

My shoes are again muddy,
but with the dirt of this society instead of that one.
The chains trap me and I am changed,
a slave forever chasing what I can never have.

I am false
I hide behind my smile
My eyes
My skin
I hide my scars with
Clothes
Bandages
Makeup
I am false
I hide my true self
A ******
A ******
A nerd
someone broken
Someone scared
Someone lovesick
ready to ****
But I hide all that
Or I will never be cared for
And loved
Thats why I hide
And act falsely
I am false
A lie
A illusion