My life is not extraordinary. I wake up the same as everyone else. Before the sun, alarmed by a wimpy siren. I answer to a clock. I put on my pants one leg at a time like everyone else. I walk to work muted among the noise of a crowd. We pack together like shrimp in a net, boarding a vessel.

Work is like any other day. I work in a kitchen, by the way. I have three jobs in the kitchen. I cook, I clean, and I wash the same towels that have been used for years too long. When my shift is over, I finally get to indulge in one of my favorite activities—exercise. Peace. I can even listen to my music! Although I haven’t updated my selection for almost 3 years now, I still sing along happily. It makes me think of Tess, and I miss her. I think about her a lot while exercising, when I’m able to mind my own without interruption. Unless someone at the gym threatens to fight for a machine, in which case I let them take it. If I witness a fight begin to emerge, I leave.

I eat dinner the same time every night, 6PM. Which mostly consists of the same foods: steak, beans, potatoes, milk. Basic but nutritious, nonetheless. After that, I spend the rest of my evening reading and writing on my bed until I go to sleep, wake up, and do the same thing all over again.

See, my life isn’t that much different than anyone else… except, for me, at the end of the day, guards padlock my cell shut just before they turn off the lights, and the rest of the night drowns away with the howls of lonely wolves shivering in their cages.

I spread my wings to fly,
Singing to fly,
Wishing to fly,
To be free of imprisonment,
Free of this environment.

I spread my wings to fly,
Beginning to fly,
Grinning to fly,
Hoping for a new world,
A new world of hope.

I spread my wings to fly,
To fly up and high,
Not feeling a sigh,
Escaping my lips.
Not thinking this was another painted fib.

I spread my wings to fly,
Now realising the true colours of the sky,
A beautiful elegant blue,
Not just full of life,
But full of stinging frosts and shrieking swords...

I spread my wings to fly,
But am I really flying?
Am I really flying if I am as I was before?
I spread my wings to fly,
But in reality... I never even left the earth.

Skeletons from my past    
that haunt me leap from my closet,
Heart beating fast,
sinful things that I have amassed,
now my mayflowers mast.
Both cast & crew, planked eyes, 2thru which they view.  
mutinous! venomous!
Now its down to the brig for the both of us. Couple Capn's in cuffs.  ...
What will await us on this new land?
Gold? Diamonds? If only!!!    ...  ...
Then suddenly unlocked for me        
Was the prison we were sitting in
S'like I was a slave now free
to begin again. Now hate is not my sin even as the spiritual muses spew vile things as I exit from: within
the anchored vessel Wrecka'less
one. my faith has been tested, & second, lessons taught with a gun... make mans war's never won.  
Go! Explore while there's still sun left!
Roll on cue (sonset)
curtains. exit stage left.

I sit, in my prison of fears, dreams, hopes and consequences thinking,
I am thinking about my life, but most  importantly, what I want and desire. Tonight my thought is of you, as I look back and ask why? Why do I care, why do I feel, and why did I give my true love and honour.

In better times, you were the symbol of fun, new hope, and excitement.
I laughed a bit more, taste the fruits just a bit better, and saw the colours a bit brighter as excitement ran through my veins. I remembers days conversing about everything and nothing, exploring each other's favorite music, dance, style, and humour.

I grown to trust as a friend and romance as a prospect as I seen bits and pieces in you that I have not seen in others. As comfort set, so did fear and anxiety of the next chapter. It hindered, broke, scared, and hurt us. We experience forces that successfully broke us out of envy and jealousy of our closeness. Half the times we were stronger, other times, weaker as other people painted green while we only saw mud brown.

I spent many upbeat nights , dancing in my mind the beauty of the friendship and the words once said, and many nights crying, for the pain and hurt that is inflicted.

I will always not understand everything, especially the small magic that occurred as sometimes I feel insignificant to the only person I feel who is the most significant.

For the first time, I held the hand that shaken, cleaned the tears of confusion and pain, and gave only from my soul and heart, because I  just know it felt right. I watch every time unneeded, I become again void as once again I am imprisoned under negative energy and mirrors.

Always looking to cracked the bad mirror to prove the beauty and love within me, asking for a glare of notice, because as every day unfolds, I have a basic feeling of deep admiration and love solely on the history and fantasy combined we created. And I have no fear as the worst always have happened, leaving deeper in sorrow.

I realize I am a failure, not because I fail, but I found a reason to refuse to fail, as my stubborn heart persists and my mind fights. Despite the exposure of love and acceptance, for each positive influence I experience, I cannot fully appreciate as I wait for the perfect connection between what I admire and my self-reflection. When I promise to cross waters without swimming, taking hits without shields, and stopping time to fulfill my integrity, I meant it deeply as I have already executed my words.

Many times that I have drowned, shot by criticism from within and afar, broke past self budgeting, and surpass my expected limitations, I just know would do it all over again just to reflect on my mistakes to give a better story. It is my creed.

I may be a fool in many eyes, but finding a diamond with so many colourful flaws is very rare to me, and cannot be duplicated in effort or by chance. Seeing someone hold your hand as I wrapped in cold quietness is my pain, as I run out of ideas to bring forth the smile I have seen before, and the meaningful tears of love I once heard. If you were  colour, you are that shade of violet. Very loud, misunderstood, never available in most settings, but yet the shade that always sang to me.

Crucify me for being an idiot for loving, as I stand by whom I chose as my twin flames of friendship. I miss you because I have too. Some days I am glad I met someone who taught me that I could love for real, and some days I regret demeaning myself. I am guilty by creed.

As i always say, you given me spontaneous energy , in which gave my life some flavour beyond salty-boring. This here, what I am saying now, is just another random of spice to add to the ***, but in deep honesty, this is farther from the truth of randomization. I have written this starting from months ago, only in heart in mind, only to be transposed as words today.  I plea insanity, I plea the fifth, but I plea for recognition as I am guilty of melting by your presence. I refuse to walk the lines of this magic as a failure.

I offer my heart, eyes, soul, wisdom, fruits and prospects, just to see the smiling thanks and admiration I saw before existence of my deeper prison. Let me drink a cup of java and dance the floor of reality one day, and I promise the music will be more than moderately dismal. Within many days, we could choose to flour that pasta, and dip it into the sauce I prepared slowly. Let's ad-lib some more words into a book, and see what the sunset really looks like. With all of me, Peace.

Thomas~

Feel like i have fallen under the devil's trap,
Under opression,
And my soul is chained up in manacles.

Trying my best to reach to the world,
But that concrete wall bounces my words back,
the louder i become its like my voice is being lowered.

They say they want the best,
But they never assist me in achieving it,
Just like that novel Animal Farm,
they are Squealer and Napoleon.
Only caring much about the result but not me.

It feels like i am back in the Aparthied era,
And like Nelson Mandela,
My 12 years of learning have just become a 27 years imprisonment.

I feel like i am a murdurer being questioned in the court of law,
I dont know anything about being a lawer nor a police,
But am forced to write reports of why i failed.
Looking at their barbaric faces,
i know how much they will never suport me.

They call a school a place of learning,
but today i saw another story in the system.

Would you believe me to be death?
I guess it makes sense
For this reality, truly is hell

But I am a cheater of death
So here I stand;
Amidst the stink of burning corpses,
Dead eyes of starring, children and women,
Alive.
Oh, but how I wish I was dead.

Now, 80 years after,
The smell of burned carcass,
Still clings to everything I touch

You need to go.
And I don't know how to do it.
I don't want to forget you, to cut you off. I don't want to shatter my love for you.
There has to be another way.
But... you need to go.
I can't keep waking up sore every morning. Raw.
I can't keep talking myself out of tears.
I can't keep wondering why the hell you matter to me, and abusing myself for caring about you.
But I don't know how to do it. It's not in me to extinguish a love.
I have sacrificed every part of myself at least once to avoid it.
It has been the single thing I am unwilling to do.
The one unwavering line in the sand.
And I know where this leads- this trying to erase it.
I know because I've tried,
In pain,
In desperation, to destroy a love before. And I couldn't do it.
I threw more and more at it, unleashed every weapon I had.
And by the end...
I had caught the rest of me in the crossfire, and the only thing that remained untouched was that love.
You need to go.
But that will happen again if I try to uproot you from my soul.
It is a humbling lot. A prideless realization. That I must wait.
That I must serve the part of me that holds me captive, the only part of me I know as indestructible,
The part that reigns because nothing can dethrone it.
I must bow to it, because I like what else I am.
I know that even if I tried with every ounce of courage and hatred I have built up over my years to demolish my love for you, the dust would clear,
And it would be the only thing about me left.
And I don't want it to be.
I don't respect it enough to let it be my defining factor.
And so I sit and stew and wait, for it to loosen its stranglehold, or for you to come back.
It is a prideless thing. And I am a proud person.
And it chafes every single day.
And I swallow it, and go on.

A voice fills the chamber of no sound
bouncing off the interior like weightless rubber.
The feeling of fatigue passes;
raising up in pitch the voice begins to choke.

The inhabitant of the chamber weeps,
wrapped tightly in its arms, rocking soothingly,
perhaps at the center in this chamber of no place.
Sickly, in the high voice of a child it wails.

There are no moments here, no passing time
memories of another left to sleep,
the chamber may only close its doors
and those inside may only know despair.

Welcome to your execution
You will not be exonerated
Your rights will not be debated
In this secret prison
This bay of pigs
But it’s not the pigs imprisoned
Corporate sponsored terrorism
Government created schism
Between the illusion of rights
And the truth
There will be no repeals
And when we are ready
Secret tribunals with no oversight
Will oversee your execution
Or worse your lifetime imprisonment